


Silent Civil War

by RenkonNairu



Series: Utopia Has Fallen [2]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Bellwether wins, Cold Civil War, Drama, F/M, Gen, Government Conspiracy, Human Rights, Illustrated, Mammal Rights, Melodrama, Political Civil War, Racism, Savage Nick Wilde, Social Civil War, Social Injustice, Social Justice, Speciesism, The Author Regrets Nothing, the author is a preachy liberal tool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-16 13:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 60,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7269940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenkonNairu/pseuds/RenkonNairu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another of the tired old "what if Bellwether won?" scenario. Nothing new or original here.</p><p>But if you're not looking for new or original…</p><p>An expansion on my first Zootopia fic (Utopia Has Fallen). Bellwether wins, Nick goes savage, and Judy is presumed dead -but no body is removed from the scene. The Savage Predator Crisis escalates even further and Bellwether introduced laws to limit predator rights and freedoms. Gazelle heads an equal rights/predator rights campaign in the hopes of restoring the city to the inspirational utopia it used to be. </p><p>Things spiral…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Whatever Happened to Judy Hopps?

The death of heroic officer Hopps hit the city, and hit it hard. 

Before her, no other Savage attacks had resulted in a death. Injury, yes. Trauma, yes. But death -no. 

The hero that initially cracked the case of the Missing Mammals, the first small Mammal to become an officer of the Zootopia Police Department, the first bunny to become an officer of the Zootopia Police Department... also became the first fatality of the Savage Attacks. 

Or, at least, that's what witnesses claimed. When Chief Bogo had his officers pull the drooling and snarling fox out of the sunken terrarium exhibit he told them to recover Hopps' body as well. She might not have been with the department long, but in the short time that she was, she had done amazing things -especially amazing for someone so small. 

But there was no body. 

They subdued and muzzled Nickolas Wilde, the latest victim of the -still inexplicable- Savage epidemic that had gripped the city. Wilde's snout and teeth were covered in blood, so he must have attacked Hopps. Rabbits were, after all, a fox's natural prey (in ancient times, at least). There must be a body. 

“Unless....” Began one of the officers slowly. “Unless... there's nothing left because he... ate her. All of her.”

Upon hearing that suggestion, Mayor Bellwether cried out with a moan that quickly degenerated into sobs. “Oh! Oh, poor Judy!” She wailed. “I saw the whole thing. That- that monster tore into her! Tore into her like she was candy and- and- Oh, it was too terrible!” 

One of the other sheep that accompanied her placed a comforting hoof on her fleecy shoulder. 

“Are you done questioning her, Chief?” He asked. “Can I take Dawn home now?”

Chief Bogo shifted his attention from the diminutive mayor to her companion. “Your name's Doug Ramses? We may need to contact you with more questions later. For now, yes, you may take the mayor home.”

The arm of the hoof on her shoulder shifted positions to wrap around her instead -protective and secure. “C'mon, sweetheart, lets get you home.”

“Thank you, Dougie.” Bellwether continued to sob.

At least, she continued to sob until they were in Doug's car and pulling away from the scene. Then her sobs melted away, replaced by a sneer. “Call me 'sweetheart' again and you'll be the next dupe that gets dosed with the NH-formula.” 

He did not seem intimidated by this threat. “Good luck finding another sniper with my skill that's also willing to help you with this crazy plan of yours. Also, you're one to talk. I thought the 'Dougie' bit was a little over the top, personally.”

“If I wanted your opinion, I'd have asked for it.” Bellwether snapped. She had no patience for tense banter. She had no patience for amusing comrade banter either. “You saw Hopps go down the grate. Do you think she's still alive?”

Doug made a lane change and shrugged. “The fox couldn't fit. But his face did come back bloody. He might not have finished her, but he definitely wounded her. If she can't get to a hospital, she'll probably bleed out.”

Wouldn't it just be phenomenally lucky if she did. “After Bogo and his uniformed flunkies clear out, send a couple of the boys down there to find out what happened. If she did bleed out, I want to see her body. If she's wounded but still alive, finish her. She knows to much and could ruin us. Right now the police think the fox already killed her, we can get away scot free.” A very un-sheeplike smile. “Its the perfect murder.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He pulled into the driveway of her home. 

…

Bonnie and Stu had many, many children. 

But that didn't mean that they weren't as affected when they lost one. Having such a large family, it would have been statistically impossible for the couple to be strangers to infant mortality. But when they lost children in the past it was when the kits were young, in their first year of life. Very different from losing a child that you raised to adulthood.

A child who's scraped knees you kissed. Whom you sat up with late into the night because she had a nightmare. Who you forewent a day's work on the farm to stay inside and nurse her when she was sick. School plays you filmed. Graduations you attended. A child who was as much a familiar fixture in your life as your spouse. 

Losing a child like that was very hard. 

At first, Bonnie Hopps didn't quite understand what Chief Bogo was trying to tell her. Over the phone, using a voice that was low and somber. Respectful and sympathetic. But not apologetic. Officer Hopps died a death to be proud of -protecting the mayor from a Savage predator.

The moment the words finally sank in, and the reality of what the Zootopia police chief was trying to tell her dawned with comprehension, the phone slipped from her hand. It clattered to the floor loudly, but Bonnie seemed not to notice. 

“Stu!” She shouted. Running from the kitchen, she threw open the warren door and called out to her husband. “Stuart! Stu! Come quickly, its Judy! Judy... Judy is... Her boss just called. He said our little girl...”

She managed to wait until her husband actually got to her before she fell on her knees crying, unable to finish whatever it was that Judy's commanding officer had said about her. 

Stu Hopps pulled his wife up off the ground and helped her back inside. “Now, what's all this about Judy?”

But that question only produced a fresh wave of tears from her. “The-the phone. I dropped it.” 

“I'll take care of it.” He told her, still not quite understanding what was going on. But whatever it was, it got Bonnie worked up into a state. Entering the kitchen, Stu picked up the phone from where it had been dropped and held it to his ear to see if the call had been disconnected or if there was still a very confused and impatient Mammal on the other end. “Hello? Stuart Hopps speaking.”

“Mr. Hopps.” The gruff baritone of a water buffalo responded in an even, and very patient sounding tone. “I'm sorry to cause you and your wife distress. No police chief ever wants to make these calls, but it has to be done.” There was a pause. Then an apprehensive intake of breath. “Earlier this evening, Mayor Bellwether was cornered in the Natural History Museum by a predator that had gone Savage. Officer Hopps had been tailing the predator -apparently- and when she saw that the mayor was in danger, she intervened to protect her.” Another pause. “I'm afraid she was killed during the altercation. I'm sorry for your loss.”

Now it was Stu's turn to be rendered dumb with shock. 

His mind called up the image of Judy walking out of her high school graduation ceremony, her diploma in one hand, her application to join the Police Academy (already filled out) in the other. All her life, all Judy ever wanted to do was be a police officer in Zootopia... and then she was... and now she wasn't.

The kitchen blurred in Stu's vision and he reached a paw up to rub his eyes. It came away wet. 

He cleared his throat. “I-ah- I see. Do you... do you need Bonnie and I to come down and- and identify the body?”

“That's won't be necessary.” Bogo assured him. 

“Oh.” Stu felt oddly numb, like he was in shock. “Alright then. When can we pick up our daughter then? Or, will the department bring her here for us? I- I'll need to star arranging the- the- I'll need to make arrangements.”

Next to him, Bonnie let out another sob and he wrapped an arm around her. So long as he was in shock, he could be the strong one. He could hold and support his wife. So long as he was still in shock. The moment that wore off... it was anyone's guess. 

Again, Chief Bogo cleared his throat. This one, more uncomfortable than before. “There- Mr. Hopps, I regret to inform you that we were unable to recover her body.” 

“Why not?” The question was out of Stu's mouth before his imagination could conjure up for him what that might mean. 

“Mr. Hopps, this might be difficult for you to hear.” Chief Bogo began. “Perhaps we should wait until you've had time to digest-”

“Tell me what happened to my daughter!” The rabbit snarled into the receiver. 

The line was silent. Not ended. Bogo hadn't hung up. He was just quiet. Finally, after a prolonged pause, he admitted. “She was eaten. You can't burry her, because there's nothing left to be buried.”

Where his wife might have dropped the phone in shock, Stu only gripped it tighter. Gripped it so tight, in fact, that it turned the skin under his fur white. “They even ate her bones?”

…

“Nick, please, fight it!” Judy pleaded. Shouted was really more like it. But her shouts were supposed to be pleas. 

Above her, mayor Bellwether taunted. Walking a circle around the edge of the sunken exhibit they found themselves trapped in. “He can't help it, Judy. Its in his nature.”

She couldn't believe that. She wouldn't believe that. Sure, he was dishonest. A con artist through and trough. But he did it in such a way that there was never anything illegal about what he did. He might be a grifter, but he was a law-abiding grifter. None of his schemes were malicious, no one was ever hurt by his cons. In fact, he gave people what they needed. A cool snack on a warm day. Lumber for construction. He might live on the fringes of society, but he was still a productive member of society. Someone like that couldn't possibly be Savage -not naturally. It just wasn't in his nature. 

That didn't mean he couldn't be driven to Savagery by drugs. 

Seizing from the toxin that was suddenly coursing through his bloodstream. Working its was to his brain, causing signals to misfire. Changing his brain chemistry. Making him more primal and feral. Nick did exactly what Bellwether said he would. He turned Savage. He couldn't help it. It was in his blood now. In his brain. He wasn't himself anymore. 

Unbidden, the words of Mrs. Otterton sprang to Judy's mind. 'That's not my Emmett.'

This wasn't her Nick. This wasn't her friend. 

Suddenly faced with a predator with no inhibitions, its vibrant emerald eyes fixed on her, pupils large and dark, Hopps' prey instincts took over and she did what all prey do when they sense a predator. She fled. Ran. 

Or rather, she tried to. 

Judy was quickly reminded that she was trapped. In a sunken exhibit, the wall was just a little to high for her to jump with her injured leg. Her injured leg. The smell of her blood probably wasn't doing her any favors either. Making her smell more appealing to Nick's now simpler and feral mind. Her blood and her fear. They were probably driving him crazy with want. With the need to sink his sharp canines into her. To taste her. To feed on her.

Casting her eyes around the pit, Judy searched for another way out. The wall was pointless. There was no way she was getting up on top of that. Even if she did, Bellwether would just push her back in. 

Her injured leg giving out under her, Judy fell face-flat into the faux-sand of the exhibit. ...And found her nose pressed against cool metal. Opening her eyes, the frightened rabbit found that it was a ventilation grate. It was small. Meant to provide an upward draft for whomever was standing above the exhibit. It was not meant for actual Mammal access. The way it was sized, only small Mammals would be able to fit. The average Mammal would be to large. 

But Judy wasn't an average Mammal. She was a small Mammal. 

Ignoring the deadly fox stalking her -or rather, trying to ignore the deadly fox stalking her- Hoops began banging on the grate. Bashing the thin, weak, metal of it with a rock from the exhibit. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the bars of the grate began to bend and warp inward. 

She felt Nick's hot breath on the back of her neck and rolled out of the way before he could snap at her. Before he could get his teeth in her. Before he could kill her. 

Judy rolled over the faux-sand, stopping only when she collided with the exhibit wall. Concealed behind plastic ferns, her back to the wall, the fox -Nick, he was Nick!- coming toward her. Not knowing what else to do, Judy threw the rock at him. That at least was real. Real and heavy. 

Her projectile didn't connect, however. At least, not with Mammal she aimed it at. It arched over his hunched shoulders and raised spine. Instead impacting on the ventilation grate she'd been banging on. She heard it impact on the metal. ...And heard it clang down the shaft. She got it open! Now, if she could just get back over there...

Nick was so close now. 

Her heart was hammering against her ribs. 

Blood pounding in her ears. 

Adrenaline pumping. 

She was going to die. 

Freedom and safety was just a few feet away, but she was going to die. 

Judy Hopps refused to die.

Summoning all her strength. Forcing herself to ignore the pain in her injured leg, Judy thought back to the last time she was pinned down by a hostile fox. Bringing her feet together, she kicked Nick. Kicked him hard in the face. On the side of the jaw. Sending his head to the side suddenly and at an awkward angle. 

He bit his tongue. Possibly the inside of his cheek too. Judy heard the yelp of pain. But she didn't pause to look. She didn't need to appraise her handy work. She needed to get away. Hopping around the now injured and very, very angry fox, she dove for the open grate. Slipping inside just as Nick recovered. Her ears just missing his snapping teeth. 

Nick tried to follow her. He stuck his head in the open hole. First his head, then his neck. But that was where he stopped. His shoulders to wide to make it through. He couldn't follow her. 

That was when Judy finally paused. The strength draining out of her with the adrenaline rush that had created it. She looked at the head of the Mammal that she called friend. Snarling and snapping. Teeth and jaws bloody. His own blood. He had bitten the inside of his cheek in addition to his tongue. Head thrashing around in the narrow space. Open mouth spraying blood all over the tight enclosed walls. Splashing droplets over his nose and forehead. It was a disturbing sight. 

But there was nothing Judy could do for him. She knew what made him like this, but not how to reverse it. 

“I'm sorry.” She whispered. He probably couldn't here her over his own snarling. Even if he did, he wouldn't understand. Words were wasted on a Savage. “I'll come back for you. I promise. I'll save you. Nick...”

Her eyes watered, but she didn't know if it was from the pain in her leg, a throbbing protest of the kick she'd delivered to his face. Or from emotions that she couldn't identify and certainly didn't have the time or opportunity to analyze right now. 

“I'll save you.” She said again before turning away from him. It was hard to turn around in the tight space, and her leg protested every motion. But somehow, she managed it. “Goodbye, Nick.”

...

Finally hanging up the phone, Chief Bogo stared at it for a long moment. He must have been in shock himself. It didn't happen often anymore, he'd been at this job far to long to be taken so off-guard as to interfere with his critical reasoning and observation skills. Bogo couldn't believe he'd missed it there at the scene. 

Nickolas Wilde -the Savage fox- was covered in blood. His face, his mouth, his teeth were covered in blood. No body was found. He was so uncharacteristically distraught from the news of Hopps' death that he hadn't questioned the fact that there was no body. The fox had eaten her. That was that. 

But a fox couldn't have eaten everything. 

A fox wouldn't have eaten her bones.

What had happened to her bones? What had happened to her body? What had happened to her?

If there was no body... was there even a crime?

Chief Bogo pressed a button on his desk phone. “Clawhouser, I need you to do something for me.”

“Clawhouser was transferred to records, sir.” Came back the polite voice of a ewe. “This is Maggie, I mean, uh, Muttonson. I keep forgetting you all use last names here. Muttonson, sir.”

That was right, the department's public relations office decided that it made Mammals to uncomfortable to walk into their police station and see a predator as -not only the first thing they saw- but also the first Mammal they were required to talk to. To address that issue, Clawhouser was transferred to a different position within the department -a non-visible, non-threatening position. His desk was then given -not to another officer- but instead a receptionist that came recommended by the mayor's office. 

“Would you like me to transfer you down to records?” Muttonson asked sweetly. 

She really was a doll. Always so cheerful and polite. Eager to please. Bogo imagined her, hoof poised over the transfer button waiting for his confirmation that, yes, that was what he'd like her to do. But now that the Chief was over the shock he didn't know he was under, his cop-instincts were reemerging, and right now they were telling him not say anything about any of the questions he'd just been asking himself over the phone. Or an intercom. Or the radio. 

It was the mayor that said Judy was killed. It was the mayor that said Judy was eaten. But if either of those things had happened there would have been some version of remains, and there were no remains. So then, did either of those things actually happen? If neither of those things had happened, then why would Mayor Bellwether lie?

“No need, Muttonson.” He said. “It wasn't important.”

“Yes, sir. If you need anything else just-”

He cut her off before the polite offer to continue to do the job she'd been hired for was finished. She really was a nice sheep. Always smiling. Eager to please. The perfect Mammal for public service, or clerical work... in a place like city hall. Bogo -personally- thought Muttonson lacked the steel in her spine to work in a tense (and sometimes violent) police station. She was a civilian, not an officer. She did not have the benefit of the training that an officer would have. But Muttonson came recommended by the mayor's office, so what could Bogo do. Her placement in the precent came from the powers that be. 

Sitting in the quiet office now, the Chief drummed his hoof on his desk and thought about his missing officer. 

If there wasn't a body, then chances are, she wasn't dead. 

If she wasn't dead, then whatever happened to Officer Judy Hopps?

...

BONUS! :

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by [Santopecado](http://renkonnairu.deviantart.com/art/Disappearing-to-Dark-Places-641687308) on deviantART. Please go and give her page some love, too.


	2. A Night at the Museum

  


The doctor was a gorilla. Big and bulky, with muscle rippling under thick dark fur. He was smaller than the polar bears, but only just. He must have been in bed when he got the call, because his white coat was throne over mismatched pajamas. A Zootopia U t-shirt over blue and white striped pants. 

What kind of doctor still made house calls in this day and age?

The kind that didn't ask any questions. 

The gorilla dabbed at the gash on Judy's leg with gauze dipped in antiseptic. It stung, and when he rubbed just a little to hard to make sure the wound was clean, it burned. Burned like a bunny-humper! But the patient didn't protest, just gasped between clenched teeth. Inhaling sharply in a hiss. 

“Oh, Judy...” Fru-Fru held her paw, the other one, resting over her swollen pregnant belly. 

The gorilla capped the anti-septic bottle and packed the used gauze away in a bio-waste bag. He then withdrew a needle and surgical thread. “Would you like an anesthetic?”

“No.” The bunny groaned. “No drugs.”

The gorilla doctor looked at her skeptically. “This will be painful.”

“I'm gonna stay alert!” She snarled, in a very un-bunnylike tone. Snarled in a way that more closely resembled the fox she'd just escaped. “No drugs!”

Fru-fru's griped the fur of the rabbit's paw more tightly. 

Sighing, as if he came up against this attitude more often than he liked, the gorilla nodded to one of the polar bears watching over them. Standing back from the work, giving the patient air and the surgeon space, like silent sentries. “She'll want brandy.”

One of the bears nodded stoically and exited the room. 

The doctor did not begin his stitching until the bear had returned with a one polar bear sized bottle and one rabbit sized glass. The glass was filled half way and offered to Hopps to drink. It was only after the glass was drained that the gorilla began the slow and uncomfortable work of sewing the gash on her leg shut. 

Hopps hissed again, more loudly this time. Demanding another glass of alcohol. But made no other protests or indications of pain. She was a tough cookie. The gorilla had seen big strong bears, five times her size, cry like scared kittens from smaller wounds and less sever treatments. When he was done, he wiped the area down with more anti-septic and placed an adhesive bandage over it to keep the area clean. 

“The stitches will dissolve on their own eventually.” He said. “So there'll be no need to call me back to remove them. But there will be scarring. I think the fur will grow back, but it'll never lay smoothly over that area again. Try to stay off it as much as possible” that bit was said in a tone that implied he already knew his advice was going to be ignored. He was a house-call doctor that worked for cash, he catered to a specific type of clientele, the type that needed a house-call doctor that took cash. “If you're still sober, Mr. Big would like to speak with you.” 

“Thank you, Dr. Primal.” Fru-fru said, patting Judy's paw. 

The gorilla, Dr. Primal, only nodded. “And I'll be back next Tuesday for your check-up, Miss Fru-fru.”

“Mrs. Fru-fru.” She corrected, stroking her swollen pregnant belly with affection. “I'm a married shrew now.”

“Of course, ma'am.” Primal nodded before being escorted out by one of the polar bears. 

Judy stood, testing her weight on her injured leg. Walking would be uncomfortable, but doable. Running would prove more difficult. Jumping out of the question. But she would live. That was the material point. She had to live. She was the only Mammal -the only still sane Mammal- who knew the truth. That predators weren't going Savage because of some flaw in their genes, some echo of their violent ancestors that was resurfacing. No. It was drugs. 

A natural, floral-based, essential oil. Refined, concentrated and weaponized. 

“Judy, if you're too tired, I can tell daddy to wait.” Fru-fru offered. “You look like you're about to collapse anyway. Let me give you a room to lay down in and you can talk to daddy tomorrow.”

To be completely candid, it was a tempting offer. But then she thought about Nick. Nick Wilde. Wild. Wild and uncontrollable. Stalking her, tail straight, fur on his back standing up, raising the fabric of his shirt. Teeth barred. Drool dripping from his jowls. What happened to him? She got away before anyone else could have arrived. Did they shoot him? Was he dead in a morgue? A cold and impartial coroner preforming a necropsy? Was he still alive? Did they subdue him? Did they muzzle him?

Nick in a muzzle... knowing about his childhood, the idea broke Judy's heart. 

If for no other reason, then at least for Nick, Judy refused to rest. She needed to move. Do something. If for no other reason than to feel like she was doing something... for Nick. 

“No.” She shook her head at Fru-fru's offer. “This is urgent. I need to see your father. If he's ready now, I'll see him now.”

She turned to one of the polar bears whom nodded and lead her out. 

Mr. Big's office was much the same as the first two times Hopps had seen it. Except, this time it felt like it was missing something, and Judy felt a lump rise in her throat when she realized what it was. It wasn't something from the office that was missing, it was something from her. 

Nick. 

The last two times she'd come here. The only two times she'd ever been in the presence of the crime lord that ruled Tundra Town and Little Rodentia, was when she was with Nick. Nick introduced her to this world. Nick was her guide, and to some extent her teacher as well. But she tried to ignore the feeling of absence, pushed it from her mind. Focus instead on what needed to be done in order to get him back. Refill the absence she felt with the person that belonged in it.

Mr. Big sat in his chair on the desk. He took one look at her with his eyes, squinted shut with age. “Bring a chair for my guest.”

“I don't need-” Hopps began to protest, but she gave up the moment one of the polar bears appeared, with a rabbit sized chair at the ready, having anticipated his employer's command. With a sigh that was only half-resignation, the other half appreciation, she sat down. “Thank you.”

“You come to me, in desperation. I welcome you and fix your hurt, because you save my daughter and are godmother to my soon-to-be granddaughter. You are like family, and nothing is more important to me than family.” He began. “But you are in trouble. Over the police scanner I already know that you were attacked by a Savage. They say you saved the mayor. They also say you are dead. Since you are clearly not, you must tell me... how much of what I know is actually true?”

“None of it!” Hopps was quick to announce. Almost shout with heated passion. Anger and grief. “Bellwether's a liar! She did it! She's the one doing it! All the Savage attacks are all her!”

Mr. Big held up a hand for silence. “A Mammal in my position comes to expect a certain amount of duplicity from those who presume themselves in charge. Politicians especially.” 

“Its more than just duplicity!” Judy insisted. “The savage attacks- all of the hysteria and fear in our city, she's doing it. She wants it. She wants Mammals scared. She wants prey to fear predators. She wants Mammals to hate predators!” 

Pausing, the rabbit took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She was allowing herself to become a little to emotional. She needed to stay calm and rational. She was a cop on a case. Give her report as a trained police officer. “Sir, I took a leave of absence from the force to visit my family. There, my father reminded me of a certain plant that -when ingested- can induce a state of violent mania and aggression. When I heard this, I realized that the incidents of predators going Savage might not be due to genetics, but rather drug use -a drug made from this plant. That's what Nick and I were investigating when we brought Duke Weaselton to you for questions. Thanks to your help, we found the drug lab.”

Judy paused again, remembering what Nick said. Just take the gun and go. Get out and get away. Forget the lab. The gun and the pellets were evidence enough. But it wasn't enough for her. She just had to have the whole lab. Judy found herself trying to suppress a sob. Crying would not help Nick. Crying was useless. 

“Its where they were growing and refining the plants.” She continued once she was sure she had a handle on herself again. “Not just refining it, but weaponizing it. Forming it into hollow bullets that shattered on impact, introducing the drug directly into the blood stream. That's why so many predators have been going savage lately. It has nothing to do with genetics. There's no genetic component to it. Its all being orchestrated by Bellwether. She wants the city to be afraid. To solidify her power and control the city.”

Judy lapsed into silence. She didn't quite know what else to say. Except to talk about Nick. 

“She... she shot Nick.” And this time, Hopps couldn't halt the tears that came to her eyes. She brought her paws up in an attempt to suppress her sobs. “With the Night Howler. I saw the round break on his fur! He... he wasn't himself! He attacked me! Nick... Nick... he was my friend and he-”

At that point, Judy gave up all hopes of suppressing anything and just let the waterworks flow. She cried.

Snapping his fingers, Mr. Big motioned something to his polar bear guards. One of them stepped forward, pulling a handkerchief from his suit's breast pocket. This he offered to Hopps. The square of fabric, meant for a bear, was comically large in the rabbits hands. It looked more like a small blanket than a tissue. But she used it to wipe her eyes all the same. 

Clearing her throat, Judy finally got to what she actually needed to say. “Thank you for patching up my leg. I didn't know where else to go. But now I need to get back to Precent One. I need to tell Chief Bogo what I know. That the mayor is dirty and that the predators that have gone Savage are victims, not perps.”

“That is something I will not let you do.” The diminutive shrew informed her flatly. 

“Wha- but-” Hopps began to protest. But was once again cut off. 

“You know the mayor is dirty.” Mr. Big reminded her. “You cannot trust her. Do you know who else you cannot trust? Do you know how big her influence reaches? Who belongs to her? Who still belongs to themselves? Do you know your own Chief Bogo doesn't already work for her?”

For the first time since borrowing her parents truck and coming back to Zootopia, Judy began to doubt the answer to that very question. Supposing she and Nick hadn't been cornered by Bellwether in the museum. Supposing they did manage to get the gun and the Night Howler rounds to the station. Supposing they gave it directly to Bogo... would he have done his job and entered them into evidence. Bagged, and tagged, and cataloged. Filed. Offered to a judge as grounds for an arrest warrant.

Or, would he have taken the gun and its rounds and just handed them back to Bellwether, and thrown her and Nick into a cell. Drummed up some absurd charge or another and put her and Nick away forever?

The fact of the matter was that Judy just didn't know. 

From the first moment she met Chief Bogo, he seemed like a stern, aloof male. Sometimes even abrasive. But Hopps always just assumed that was an act to conceal a deeper, more sensitive current of feeling that he wanted to insulate from his professional life. She thought Bogo was kind. But then, she thought the same thing about Dawn Bellwether. That she was kind, sweet, and caring. Look how wrong that assessment was. 

Judy lowered her eyes. 

“This, I think, you already know.” Continued Mr. Big. “Why else, would you come to me when you were injured and vulnerable instead of going to Zootopia General, or another hospital or free clinic?”

Why, indeed. 

Mr. Big was no fool. Then again, one couldn't both be a fool, and build a powerful and reaching criminal empire like the one the tiny shrew presided over. He knew what he was talking about. Both on the subject of Judy not knowing who she could trust, and on the subject of Judy herself. Somewhere, deep down, some part of her -that had probably rubbed off from Nick- already knew that she was in over her head and it was only a stroke of luck, some absurd divine miracle, that she had a powerful friend in Mr. Big to shelter her in her time of vulnerability. 

“What should I do?” She asked. Paused. Then, “I should go home. Make sure my parents know I'm okay.”

“If you did, you would only be placing them in danger as well.” Mr. Big informed her flatly. “These are powerful Mammals you've crossed. Powerful Mammals who have already proven they are not afraid of harming innocents to get what they want.”

He was talking about all the predators they'd darted over the months. Mr. Otterton, Renato Manchas, and all the other Mammals they in turn had harmed. He was not speaking specifically about Nick -Nick wasn't exactly 'innocent'. But still, it was the image of Nick Wilde, curled up in a ball on her lap. In pain from the shot. Seizing from the toxin that was suddenly coursing through his bloodstream. Working its was to his brain, causing signals to misfire. Changing his brain chemistry. Making him primal and... and Savage. 

No, Dawn Bellwether and her associates did not have any reservations about hurting others to achieve their ends. If their ends were to kill her and remove the danger of the information she knew, then they would not have any reservations about killing her parents, or her siblings, or her nieces and nephews to get to her. No, Judy Hopps could not go home. 

“Then what can I do?”

“You ask me what you can do.” It was phrased as a statement, but somehow, Mr. Big made it sound like an absurdity. “You can do whatever you like. You do not work for me. I do not pay you. It is not for me to tell you what you can and cannot do.” He paused, and in a gentler tone continued. “But I can tell you what you should and should not do. You should not go straight to people who are paid by the city, when one doesn't know who to trust, don't trust anyone, trust their money. Don't trust Mammals who collect their salary from your enemies. No cops. You should not involve Mammals that are not already involved or have not involved themselves. It makes the business...” usually he would say 'messy' “...complicated. Mammals become collateral. No parents. No family.” 

And probably no one who wasn't in a position to help either. They'd just complicate thing and become collateral. So Judy couldn't even tell Nick's partner Finnick what really happened. Nick's one and only friend (and Judy wasn't sure just how loosely she should apply that term) would he think that Nick was an uncontrollable, primal, Savage, monster. For some reason, that made Judy herself feel alone. Suddenly, very alone. If it wasn't for Fru-fru and Mr. Big...

“What should I do?”

“They are already saying you died.” Mr. Big reminded her. “So you should stay dead. If you're already dead, they cannon kill you. If you're dead, you'll live.”

“But if I lay low and pretend to be dead, how can I expose Bellwether's conspiracy?” She protested. 

Mr. Big exhaled very slowly, intertwining the fingers of his paws over his stomach. “Judy, you are like family, so I will tell you how I managed to build this empire of mine.” And then, because she was a cop, he asked, “Do you know how I became the Boss?”

“No.” Blinked the Rabbit. 

“Patience.” The shrew informed her simply. “Information is more valuable than gold, or jewels, contraband, even more valuable than cash. I built this empire, not by rushing off to do 'what's right' the moment I learned what was wrong. Or blurting out a thing once I learned it. But by taking the things I knew, sitting on them, and waiting until my information could be played to my advantage. Loose lips sink ships, my child. Wait, until the opportune moment.”

“And how many Mammals will suffer while I'm sitting on what I know and waiting for 'the opportune moment'?” Judy demanded. She bolted from her chair, propelled to her feet by the mental image of Nick strapped in a muzzle and dragged by restraints into a cell. 

“Far fewer than would suffer if you died prematurely.” Again, his statement was flat. Even. Simple. A statement of fact. Devoid of emotional plea. Then, when she looked back down at him, her eyes softened by confusion over his statement, Mr. Big elaborated. “To begin, I will now take steps to protect my associates.” He waved a dismissive hand to indicate the polar beards surrounding them. “But Zootopia is also my town. I do business with the people here. They are mine. And, Judy, as you already know, I protect me and mine.”

…

That night at the museum was traumatic for Mayor Bellwether. She informed the city as much in an address the ewe gave the following morning. The very next morning. Before Chief Bogo even had a chance to get a proper statement from her about the incident. 

In the address, she informed the city of the loss of Officer Judy Hopps, whom tried to protect her from the fox that had gone Savage. But Officer Hopps met her death at the jaws of that fox and Dawn bowed her head and asked for a moment of silence for the fallen hero. She might be gone, but she wouldn't be forgotten. She was the first casualty of this crisis that had gripped their city. But Mayor Bellwether promised that she would also be the last. 

One life lost to predators was to many. 

In response to the attack and as a preventative measure to make sure no more deaths resulted from the crisis, Bellwether announced a new initiative she would be taking to keep her citizens safe. The 'Taming Initiative'. 

She did not go into much detail. The complete initiative was available to be reviewed by the city council, whom would still have to approve the plan before it could be put into effect. But Bellwether promised that it would curb predators' outbursts of Savagery and make the city safe again. 

That promise got the crowd cheering. Clapping their paws and shouting their approval. Yes! Give us the Taming Initiative. Tame the Savages! Make Zootopia great again! 

…

Bogo cornered her after the address. 

“Madam Mayor, we don't know for sure yet if Hopps actually is dead.” He reminded her. “I understand last night's attack was traumatic for you, but that's no reason to do things without thinking and causing more panic!”

“Panic?” Bellwether looked back at the cheering, clapping crowd. “They don't look very panicked to me, Chief. In fact, is seems to me that this city has something it hasn't had for months. For the first time, in a long time, this city has hope.”

He followed her gaze and looked over the gathered crowd. Ninety percent prey. All looking worlds more optimistic than they had just a few days ago at the last public gathering Bogo had been on call for. But still, it was just to soon. “I haven't even informed the Hopps family that their daughter is missing yet. Now you've just announced she'd dead. That is not the way for a family to learn they lost a daughter.”

For the first time since stepping down off the podium, Bellwether looked remorseful. “I'm sorry. I didn't realize- would you like me to call the Hopps for you? Judy saved my life.”

Bogo sighed. “No... No, I was her commanding officer. The responsibility is mine. Just, please, no more sensational announcements until I've calmed things down a bit. Its getting hard for my force to contain this situation when its constantly being escalated.” 

“Of course, Chief.” She nodded. 

“And I still need to take your full statement.” He reminded her. 

“Of course.” Bellwether said again. “Have Maggie call my office and we'll set up an appointment.”

That was what resulted from Dawn Bellwether's night at the museum. 

…

First responders on the scene were Francine, Delgato, Fangmeyer, Grizolli, and the Chief. 

The mayor was in tears, sobbing into the arms of another sheep. A ram who identified himself as Doug Ramses. She was frightened and hysterical. It was a little hard to piece together between her sobs what exactly it was that happened. 

But when they looked down into the pit of the sunken exhibit, they saw the fox. Bogo recognized him by his bright green hawaiian shirt as the one that was working with Hopps on the Otterson case. Nickolas Wilde. Small time grifter and con-man. But never any arrests. He was a crook, but he wasn't a thief. He just managed to never brake any laws with his cons and his dealings. Hopps even tried recommending him to the Academy. 

Well, that obviously wasn't going to happen. 

Francine stepped up to the edge of the exhibit, her bulk eclipsing the police chief. She looked down into the pit. “Is that- is that blood on his face?”

“So it would seem.” Bogo answered. The elephant had been on the force for over eight years. She should know what blood looked like. But the water buffalo chose not to remind her of this fact. Instead, he asked what should have been the first question. “Where's Hopps? The call said she was here.”

“D-down there.” The mayor pointed to the pit. “With him.”

Everyone turned their attention back to the sunken exhibit. 

There was the Savage fox, formerly Nickolas Wilde. He prowled the enclosure. Nose to the ground sniffing, as if looking for something. Occasionally glancing up at all of them staring down at him. Whenever he locked eyes with another predator, his teeth bared and a low and territorial growl drifted up to them. A slow, rumbling threat. Mine. The sand was disturbed in several places. Rabbit prints. Signs of running. Of rolling. Of a struggle. But the fox was all alone. There was no other Mammal in the pit. 

“I don't wanna be the one to say this.” Fangmeyer began. “But... there's no bunny down there.”

“Unless....” Countered Grizzolli slowly. “Unless... there's nothing left because he... ate her. All of her.”

Upon hearing that suggestion, Mayor Bellwether cried out with a moan that quickly degenerated back into sobs. Whatever calm or composure she'd collected upon the arrival of the police was quickly destroyed. The little ewe was once again hysterical. 

“Oh! Oh, poor Judy!” She wailed. “I saw the whole thing. That- that monster tore into her! Tore into her like she was candy and- and- Oh, it was too terrible!” 

Doug put a comforting arm around her and asked to take her home. Bogo decided that was probably best. They weren't going to get any useful information out of the mayor tonight. She was to distraught. Let her boyfriend comfort her. He would call her office in the morning and schedule an interview. The Chief had a different problem to deal with at the moment. A snarling, bloody problem that needed his full attention if he was going to handle it without any more of his people getting hurt. 

“Alright, everyone!” He bellowed. “Lets get that thing outta there! Cables and polls. Don't get to close. Delgato, bring me a muzzle from your trunk.”

Together, they wrestled the fox out of the sunken exhibit. Dragging him out with cables on polls. Looping them around his neck and legs. He gagged and gasped and Bogo almost wish the predator would pass out while they were dragging him up. But the fox didn't. He was still just as conscious, and just as vicious once they finally got him out. 

Drooling and snarling. Even with the cables around his neck and limbs, the pols restricting his movement, he still struggled to get close enough to one of them to attack. Thrashing and snapping. Shaking his head in furious attempts to get the cables off. All the violence of his movements caused something to fall out of the breast pocket of his shirt. A small plastic carrot. Some kind of toy or novelty pen, sized for a small Mammal's paw. 

Francine, with her superior bulk and, by extension, superior strength wrestled him to the ground and held him still. 

It was Chief Bogo that put the muzzle on him. 

Hooves feeling the wet fur as he strapped it around the fox's head. Yes. Yes, that was definitely blood on his face. Blood on his mouth. On his teeth. On his nose. Like he had shoved his whole face in a bleeding mass. He really did it. The Savage fox ate Officer Hopps! ...and Bogo was actually considering starting to like her too. In addition to being a competent officer and good at her job, Hopps had this 'can do' attitude and lack of cynicism that was becoming rare on the force. She might not have been with the department long, but her loss would be felt. 

After making sure the muzzle was tight and secure, the Chief straightened. “Get that thing out of my sight!”

“We know what to do with cop-killers.” Fangmeyer growled. 

“You will take him to the quarantined ward at Zootopia General, where we are keeping the rest of the Savage predators.” Bogo commanded in a tone that left no room for interpretation or insubordination. “Until I can get a proper witness statement from Mayor Bellwether, you are to presume that, that fox is innocent. At least until we can prove that he is guilty.”

“Sir, I didn't mean-”

“I gave you an order!” Bellowed Bogo. 

Nickolas Wilde was dragged away. A leash around his neck, and a muzzle over his face. 

As the tiger officer dragged the muzzled but still struggling fox away, Bogo's eyes once again noticed the little plastic carrot that had fallen out of the Savage's pocket. A pen he'd seen Hopps use a few times at the station. That conformed that she had been here and had come into contact with the fox. He looked away. 

“And, someone, bag and tag that.”

…

The Savage fox -Nickolas Wilde- was taken to Zootopia General. Confined to the same ward as the rest of the Savage predators. His room was directly across the hall from Emmett Otterton. Had he been able to stand, Nick might have walked out of his door and right into Otterton's. 

But neither of them were in any kind of state to visit or be visited. 

The scent of so many predators made all of them defensive and on edge. Aggressive. They would nip and snap at the med techs that came into their rooms to administer sedatives, take blood samples, measure their vitals, and leave trays of food. 

They were no better than pets. Captive exhibits. Trying to be domesticated. 

Nobody knew what was causing the outbreak of Savagery in predators. They couldn't 'treat the disease', all they could do was 'treat the symptoms'. 

That was what resulted from Nickolas Wilde's night at the museum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by [Santopecado](http://renkonnairu.deviantart.com/art/Ch2-649040721) on deviantART. Please go and give her page some love, too.


	3. Prey and Their Predators

The idea of a 'Taming Initiative' was widely liked at first. For the first few days, voter response was positive. The polls showed fifty-two percent of residents in favor of it. That was just over half the city. 

But while the initiative was being reviewed and deliberated by the city council, a copy of it also had to be made available for voting citizens to read. The initiative would affect the whole city, everyone who lived within Zootopia had the right to a say in the matter. Gazelle, eager to have peace returned to her city, and optimistic for anything that pledged to help, downloaded a PDF of the document onto her CarrotPad. 

She reclined on the couch of her off-tour residence. When she wasn't galavanting all around the world, singing in concert, or for charity benefits, when she wasn't plying her trade and paying the bills, she resided in an apartment in Savannah Square. 

While it was luxurious by any normal Mammal's standards, top floor, four bedrooms, large kitchen and dining room, even larger common area, and an outdoor patio of a size one would expect to find attached to a suburban house, not a high rise apartment. But it was still modest when one considered her means and the kinds of extravagance she could afford. But Gazelle didn't want extravagance. She wanted exactly what she had. A comfortable space for herself and the four most important Mammals in her life. 

Rodrigo and Park were on the patio, and it was a little hard to tell if they were collaborating on choreographing a new routine for her next concert, or arguing with each other over who should lead, or who should lift, or if they should go classical or avant guard. Honestly, they could be a little catty at times. But then again, they were tigers, so a little cattiness was to be expected. Rajesh was out doing... something. Of everyone in their troupe, he lacked the most discipline and direction in his life. Ashok said it was because he was just lazy. Gazelle disagreed, she thought Rajesh just lacked motivation.

And Ashok... Ashok flopped down on the couch next to her, a beer in his paw. 

Gazelle shifted her position so that she was leaning into him. Her slender neck following the curve of his pectorals, her head resting on his shoulder. She nuzzled his thick fur for a moment. Right on the line where amber-orange shifted into cream-white. Satisfied that she had adequately displayed her affection for the moment, Gazelle went back to perusing the Taming Initiative.

“What are you reading?” He asked, taking a sip of beer. 

“Mayor's new proposal.” She supplied simply. 

“Hn.” Ashok grunted, more to show that he'd heard her than out of any opinion he may or may not have. Honestly, he'd never really been political. Politics were messy and tedious, and nothing ever really seemed to change. At least not in a way that noticeably affected him and his daily life. So he didn't really pay much attention. He was content to let Gazelle read all the tedious political stuff. She'd fill him in if it was important. 

Taking another sip of beer, Ashok grabbed the remote and switched on the TV -and quickly switched from the news to a drama. Because the news was all predator fear-mongering, violence, and melodrama, but watching the Lionnsters betray and double talk with the Starkwolves on Game of Alpha's was completely different. 

They stayed like that for a time. Ashok marathoning through all the episodes they had cued up since their last tour. Gazelle reading over the Taming Initiative. 

As they continued, Ashok started to notice that the lithe little body pressed against him was growing tense. Shoulders tightening against his chest. Ashok Patel had a degree in kinesiology before he decided to pursued a more lucrative career in being glorified eye-candy decorating a music stage. “Is the show bothering you?” He asked right when Joffrey Stagatheon (whom was played by a lion, not a deer) began choking on some poison at his own wedding feast. “I know you're not a big fan of violence.”

“No, its not the show.” Gazelle sat up, shaking her head. “Its this.”

She threw her CarrotPad down on the glass coffee table in frustration. 

“What's so bad? Its supposed to save the city, right?” Ashok picked up the tablet and started scanning the page that was currently displayed on the screen. His eyes caught the word 'collar' and he backtracked to the beginning of the paragraph. 

'All predator type residents will be required to wear collars.' It read. 'A “resident” is defined as any Mammal who's permanent home address, or legal business address is within Zootopia County limits. All predator type Mammals that are visitors or non-residents must wear a collar while within Zootopia County limits. Temporary collars will be issued upon arrival at the international airport (ZCX), the train station (Central Union), and bus station (Gray Wolf terminal). Predator type visitors and non-residents entering the county via private transportation are required to check in at the nearest Taming Office to be issued their collar.'

Ashok put the CarrotPad down slowly, as if in a daze. Not fully understanding. This was different than what he'd come to expect from regular city politics. As a tiger, a predator type Mammal, this did affect him. In a very direct, and tangible way. “What... what did I just read?”

“Hatred.” Gazelle informed him. “You just read the first step towards xenophobia, speciesism, and segregation. Hate mongering.”

It just sounded so ridiculous to him. Ashok gave a short laugh. “What am I gonna hear next? That they're gonna just out and out ban predators?” The tiger shook his head at the pure absurdity of the idea. “Its a stupid proposal and it'll never pass. C'mon, lets go out. What do ya wanna eat? I'll throw a shirt on and take you some place. It'll be nice.”

“The place, or the shirt?” She asked, smiling a playful smile. 

“Both.” He decided. “Nothing but the best for my-” he cut himself off abruptly. 

Ashok was about to say 'wife'. But while inter-species marriage wasn't unheard of, prey-predator pairings were still rather taboo. As two Mammals who made their living off the general public's popular opinion of them, they were not married. They lived together, and Rajesh, Park, and Rodrigo lived with them so that, that wouldn't seem so strange. They were all one big preforming arts team. Nothing more. 

“Paramour.” He chose to finish with instead. “Nothing but the best for my paramour.”

…

The ward at Zootopia General that was cordoned off for the predators suffering from Savagery used to be the hospital's mental health ward. As such, the beds were already equipped with straps to hold patients down, the windows were barred, and the doors locked from the outside. 

The ward used to be presided over by Dr. Na'isha Lakeson, psychiatrist. A hippo from the Rain Forrest district. But when the mayor's office came in and converted the ward for the city's use, Dr. Lakeson was demoted from primary authority on the floor, to simply the attending physician. She examined and diagnosed, or tried to diagnose the predators sequestered there, and she could prescribe anti-psychotics and sedatives to keep them stable. But no longer had the power to make any serious decisions on their care and treatment. 

That power was delegated to a representative from the mayor's office. A young ram by the name of Dan Fleechovitz. He had some basic medical training, but did not posses an actual medical license. He was more of a glorified secretary and he was there to make sure things ran smoothly. 

It was Fleechovitz that scrutinized the document the gorilla showed him upon being stopped by security. The guy just walked right in, as if he belonged. The paper was a transfer order. Dr. Garry Primal, MD was apparently assigned to the Savage ward as an attending trauma surgeon. 

It was the first Fleechovitz heard of it. The sheep didn't quite know what to make of the gorilla. 

But the transfer order looked legitimate enough. The mayoral seal was certainly authentic. Fleechovitz had thought that Bellwether wanted only other sheep overseeing the project. But then, he reflected, placing only sheep in positions of logistical importance all over the city would eventually start to look suspicious. 

Sighing to himself, Fleechovitz filed the transfer order. “Check in with Dr. Lakeson. She's making the rounds.”

Primal headed down the corridor in the general direction the ram indicated. Dr. Lakeson wasn't to far down the row. In the room of a polar bear -currently sedated- checking his vitals and updating his chart. Primal let himself in.

Lakeson spun around, startled. She glared down her wide hippo snout at him, eyes narrowing with suspicious irritation. “Who are you? This is a secure ward, how'd you get in here? Don't you know these patients are dangerous.”

Ignoring her hostile attitude, Primal held out his hand-like paw for her to shake. He would be hostile too if he had been demoted, and a new superior with inferior knowledge and training was parachuted in over his head. Luckily, that was not something Primal had to worry about in the employ of Mr. Big. So long as he did his job, and preformed admirably, did as he was told, and kept his mouth shut, his position and income would remain secure. “Garry Primal, trauma surgeon and general practitioner, pleased to meet you, Dr. Lakeson.”

She did not shake his offered hand. Instead turning back to the sedated bear dozing on the bed. “What can I do for you Dr. Primal. In case you haven't noticed, I'm rather busy.”

“Actually, that's the reason I'm here.” Primal informed her. “You're too busy and over worked. With more Savages being brought in every week, they felt the need for more competent clinicians. So here I am.”

That wasn't actually the complete truth. While it was true that Lakeson was overworked, under appreciated, and needed the help, it was not the city that placed Primal in the Savage ward. They wanted to transfer another doctor already in residence at Zootopia General to the ward. That order, however, was mysteriously lost somewhere along the chain. Some poor shrew having 'accidentally' misfiled it in the circular file (the 'circular file' was the garbage can). Instead, that same absent minded shrew printed a new document -complete with the mayoral seal- to place Dr. Primal on the ward. 

Mr. Big wanted eyes on the Savages. Eyes that both knew what was really going on, and understood how to assess and judge their condition. 

“So here you are.” Lakeson echoed with a scoff. “Alright, Primal, since you're here, you can make yourself useful. How familiar are you with the general condition?”

“About as familiar as anyone else who watches the news.” He informed her. “Which is not very.”

She just looked further irritated. They throw in some new and unfamiliar quack she'd never heard of before, no mention of his credentials, and on top of all that, he wasn't even familiar with the unique and unprecedented condition they were supposed to be managing. (Lakeson used to the word 'managing' because she really had no idea how to treat it -or what she was even treating, really.)

“The symptoms sounded to me a little bit like the old Rabies virus.” Primal volunteered. “Could this be a mutated strain? Some 'super-virus' that the vaccine couldn't wipe out? Damn anti-vaxxer movement ruining life for the rest of us.”

Lakeson rolled her eyes. “That was the first thing we tested for the moment the ZPD brought them in from Cliffside.” She said as if this should have been obvious. Come on! Any first year would know to check for that. “There's nothing in their blood work to suggest a virus. Their immune systems are stable and working, not stressed or uncommonly active. So its not a virus or infection.”

“Well, that's a relief.” Primal offered a smile. That was, of course, the answer he was expecting. But he still had to play the part. “Did the toxicology report show anything unusual?”

“Toxicology?” Lakeson echoed. 

“Yes.” Primal nodded. “You've done blood work, I just assumed you'd run a drug panel while checking for infection.”

Lakeson paused, regarding him with a touch more consideration than she initially had. Next to them, on the hospital bed, the polar bear gave a soft groan. He was coming around from his sedative. Lakeson quickly finished her notes on his chart, unstrapped his restraints and ushered them both out of the room to continue their conversation out in the hall. 

Standing in the corridor between the polar bear's room and the room of a black jaguar, Lakeson answered. “We did the standard drug panel for anyone brought in by the police. They came back negative for all the common street drugs. Methamphetamine, phencyclidine, tetrahydrocannabinol, opioids, etc.” (She assumed he knew the list of narcotics a standard test looked for.)

“They all came back negative?” Primal asked, already knowing the answer. 

“All of them.” Nodded the hippo. “Of course, we have no idea how long Lionheart had them at Cliffside. Whatever they might have been dosed with would definitely be out of their systems by the time they got to me.”

This, of course, was also an expected answer. “What about that newest one that was brought in? The one that killed that cop. He was a fox, I think. Did you run a blood panel on him too?”

“Of course. It was also negative.”

“For all the standard drugs police look for.” Primal reminded her. “So we look for some non-standard ones. Did you use up all of his samples already, or do you have any on ice still?”

Taking new samples from Nick at this point would be pointless. Whatever traces of the Night Howler that were in his bloodstream that night at the museum would most definitely be out of his system by now. But if Lakeson still had some of her original samples that she took when he was initially brought in, those might still be of use. If they could get it down on paper, some clinical evidence that this Savagery was the result of external influence and not a natural insanity caused by a fault in predator genetics, then Mr. Big could start a street campaign to stem the violence. At least, the fear-born violence. There was no way to stop or control a predator that was dosed with the Night Howler. 

“I have a little.” Lakeson told him. “Just enough for one test, I'm afraid. What would you tell the lab to look for?”

“Try organic compounds.” Suggested Primal. “Maybe elevated levels of naturally occurring substances too. Uncommonly high potassium could indicate succinylcholine poisoning. In collage I once read an article about a diabetic who used his own insulin to kill his roommate.”

That skeptical look was back in her eyes again. “With things like that its harder to be definitive.”

“But it would still give us a better idea of what's going on inside them.” He insisted. Paused. Then asked, “How are their kidneys? Or livers. Did you preform a urine analysis?”

“Of course.” She said again. Again, as if this should have been obvious. “All of their kidneys are under stress.” 

“Like they're working over-time to clean something out of their systems?” Primal made sure to pitch it like a question, but it was more a confirmation for himself. Hopps said it was a drug refined from a flower that was causing the Savagery. The Night Howler. If that were the case, then the victims' livers and kidneys should be working hard to cleanse the toxin from their bloodstreams. Primal wouldn't have expected to hear anything different. “Can I see the new one? The fox.”

...

There were very few restaurants that catered specifically to predators. Most places had a small section on the menu where a customer could select a 'predator option', but choices were limited, usually only listing three or four items. It was the struggle of anyone who adhered to a diet that was not considered 'main stream'. Predators made up only ten percent of the population of Zootopia. (Predators made up around the same percentage of any population around the globe.) That meant they were a minority and the predator diet was non-main stream.

But Den on the Green was different. 

It marketed itself as a for-predator kitchen, catering specifically to protein based diets. Offering gourmet incarnations of insect meal, and some of the finest fish a Mammal could find in the city, but also the rare and delicious fowl. A true delicacy indeed. Everything on the menu could, of course, be altered for an herbivore (or split in the case of an eccentric omnivore). Den on the Green might cater directly to predators, but it was still a business and ninety percent of its possible clientele was still prey. 

Ashok leaned back in his chair. They were seated outside and he was enjoying the afternoon sun. 

Gazelle dipped one of her quail satay in the sauce and nibbled on it daintily. It wasn't real quail, of course, it was seitan. Some of the fake meats really tasted interesting and she liked to try different ones every time she went out with Ashok or the guys. 

“Maybe we should go back on tour.” Ashok suggested. He gazed out over the park, watched a mother antelope walking with her two children. A hyena in a suit and glasses, occupied by a phone call, passed them on the trail. The mother antelope grabbed both her children by the hoof and pulled them away from the predator. Ashok looked away, shaking his head. He'd witnessed similar examples of casual fear and and subtle speciesism ever since the Savage crisis began. “Get out of the city for a while.”

“The city isn't what it used to be.” Gazelle agreed, putting down her vegetarian meat. “But I don't want to leave now and come back to find Zootopia transformed into East Berlin.” 

“Oh, 'Zelle,” he scoffed, “things aren't gonna get that bad. Sure, things are a little wacky right now. But give it some time and things will calm down. In another few months we'll come back from tour and the city will be the same as it used to be. Like nothing ever happened. You'll see.”

Sitting in thought, Gazelle drummed a cloven hoof on the table. “What do you think's actually causing the Savage outbreaks?”

“The experts are saying its biological.” Ashok snorted as if the explanation were the most absurd thing he'd ever heard. Predators had been living cooperatively and constructively with prey for generations. Whatever 'Savagery' that might have been in their ancestors was long since bred out of them by now. There was no need for a 'Taming Initiative', predators were already tame. Domesticated. The 'experts' were idiots talking out of their tails. “Who am I to argue.”

“You're a predator.” Gazelle elaborated.

“I am!?” His eyes went wide in mock surprise. “Oh, I'm glad I have you to tell my these things.”

She huffed in mild annoyance at his sarcasm and casual dismissal of the topic. “What I meant was, since its only predators this is happening to, you might have some insight as to what some contributing factors might be.” She elaborated, crossing her arms over her chest and giving her paramour a look that told him this was a serious conversation and she had no patience for jokes at the moment. “Environmental stress, diet, habits, illness, indulgence.”

“I don't know, 'Zelle. My degree was in how bodies move. Not what makes them tick.” He reminded her. 

They lapsed into silence for a moment. Gazelle asked for a box to take her satay home in. Ashok had long since finished his rad na and the plate was cleared away.

“You know, the latest attack...” She began again after the server brought her take-home bag and the check. “They say the fox didn't just attack and kill the first officer on the scene. They say he ate her.”

“Mammals say lots of things.” Was Ashok avoiding eye-contact now?

Gazelle reached a hoof across the table and placed it over his fuzzy paw. “Ash, look at me. Look at me. I trust you. I know you'll never hurt me. I'm not afraid of you or the guys. But I am afraid that someone will do something stupid and hurt one of you. The way things are right now... with so much hate directed towards predators...” She paused. Drew in a breath. “I wanna fight it. I'm going to protect you -and the guys. You're my herd, and I don't like people messing with my herd.”

He smiled, shifting the position of his paw to hold her hoof. “My darling, I am so glad you were born a sweet, charming, and non-intimidating prey. Because if you'd been a predator, I'd be terrified stupid by you.”

She smiled back at him. “That's only because you're smart and know what's good for you.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, sensing the new direction of her thoughts and eager to follow it. “And what's good for me?”

“Lets go back to the apartment and I'll show you exactly what's good for both of us.”

…

Dr. Primal told Judy to stay off her leg as much as possible while the cut was healing. 

So there wasn't much of anything she could really do. Not even something as innocent and mundane as helping Fru-fru and her husband paint the nursery for their very, very soon-to-be daughter. Shrew had a shorter gestation time than rabbits did and Judy was amazed by just how much larger the smaller Mammal had become just since she and Nick had brought Duke Weaselton to Mr. Big for interrogation. Fru-fru was all baby-bump in front and look ready to pop. Judy wouldn't be surprised if she dropped it any day now. 

So, while Fru-fru waddled around, barking orders to her husband and rubbing her swollen belly, while complaining about her aching feet, Judy occupied herself with the only other thing she could think about. 

Bellwether.

Night Howler.

Savages. 

Nick...

Judy spent so much time thinking about Nick. Not just about the last time she saw him. Face covered in his own blood, drool spraying everywhere as he snapped and snarled, desperate to get to her. Desperate to sink his teeth into her. Yes, she did think about that, but the majority of the time, she thought about that story he told her. 

Of his childhood, when he was just a young kit. All bright eyed and bushy tailed. Innocent. Unjaded and still sheltered from the world's evils. Trusting. How his trust had been betrayed by Mammals he thought were his friends. Pushed down and restrained by males his own age, no adults to help him. Where had the adults been? Having no choice but to submit when they strapped a muzzle over his face. As he told her the story, she could see how deeply the memory affected him. How he was still hurt. Traumatized. 

Then she thought of how he had looked at her at the press conference. After they rescued the Savage victims from Cliffside -they did it, the two of them, together. After she announced for all the city to hear -and probably the surrounding towns and hamlets- that predators were going Savage because of 'a biological component'. That it was in their genes. A part of their nature. Inevitable. Predators couldn't be trusted. He looked so hurt. So betrayed. Judy wondered if, when he was looking at her, if he didn't see those boys from his youth, holding him down and strapping the muzzle to his face all over again. 

She regretted her words the moment she saw his eyes. But it took her turning in her badge and going home to realize just how wrong -how factually incorrect- she really was. 

But what did she do the moment she apologized and was forgiven? Just threw him back into the same kind of danger they faced during their initial investigation. Except this time, they didn't come out successful heroes. This time she abandoned him to a fate worse than his most terrible childhood memory. 

Needless to say, Judy was feeling like one terrible friend. Nick was her friend, the first real friend she made after moving to the big city, and she abandoned him. 

It was the hardest thing the industrious little bunny had ever done in her life. Even harder than solving hopeless cases or passing impossible training regiments. Turning her back on the fox that she- that she had very compelling feelings for. She was compelled to rescue Nick. To cleanse him of the Night Howler in his system and return him to normal. 

Not just him, but all the predators that were victims of Bellwether's sinister machinations. 

There wasn't much she could do at the moment, however. Not on her injured leg. Mr. Big didn't want her to leave his Tundra Town property, and Dr. Primal had commanded her to stay off her leg until the wound was scabbed over. All she really could do was keep up-to-date on the social and legal climate of Zootopia via online news sites and social media. Fru-Fru's husband had offered her a rodent sized lap top. It was just a little too small for her to use comfortably, but not so small as to be unusable at all. (Although, Judy did have to hold it awkwardly close to her face to read articles.)

She kept up with the news. Checked statistics. Read the Taming Initiative, and spoke out against it on Zoobook, Twitcher, and any other social media that got significant traffic. 

Logging on as herself was out of the question, however. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, Officer Judy Hopps died that night at the museum. She had to start all new accounts with a different name. But no alias Mr. Big furnished her with seemed right. She might have IDs and passports for Jenny Cottontail, Jessa Coney, or Janet Harechild, but none of them were what she wanted to use when speaking out against Bellwether and the Taming Initiative. Judy needed something mundane, simple, and anonymous. But something she could remember at the drop of a hat. Something that had meaning to her -just not to anyone else. 

The name came to her when Mr. Big asked her to sign her new fake passports with their corresponding names. She fished into her pocket for her carrot pen only to realize that she didn't have it. She didn't know where it was. Hadn't seen it, in fact, since that night at the museum with Nick. 

Nick, who's nickname for her was 'Carrots'. A carrot like her pen. 

Carrots was the most vocal, passionate, and vehement detractor Bellwether and the Taming Initiative had.


	4. Conversations of Current Events

A light shower of powdered sugar and cake crumbs sprinkled down onto the desk. An almost perpetual cascade of snack waste that just managed to escape the eater's mouth. Many of the documents laid out on the desk sported small little grease specks.

Overall, Clawhouser's transfer didn't affect his daily routine all that much. The records room was in the basement, next to the old boiler, so it was a bit warmer than the main lobby. But Clawhouser's grandparents originally immigrated from a much warmer climate, if they could take the heat, then so could he. 

The only significant difference between the records position and his old job, was that before he had to answer the phone, transfer calls, and assist visitors -all while eating his doughnuts. Now, he just had to file papers while eating his doughnuts. All things considered, this was actually a better position for him. The events that lead to the transfer might not have been ideal, but the result was all together not to terrible. 

Clawhouser did miss the social interaction, though. He was a natural born extrovert -in every possible sense of the word- and thrived off of conversation and social interaction. Talking to Mammals. Heck! There had been times when he'd even shared apps or played phone games with perps while their arresting officers booked them. Yes, the one major drawback to Clawhouser's new position was that he was more cut off from Mammals. Shoved in a basement and isolated. 

That was the worst part. 

But Chief Bogo came to visit him in the records room. About a week after Hopps die- uh... about a week after Judy saved the mayor's life. 

Clawhouser liked Judy Hopps. Almost from the first moment he met the energetic little bunny with her bright, eager eyes and 'can do' attitude. It was still a little hard for him to accept that she was gone. 

“Chief! Hi! What are you doing all the way down here?” The cheetah babbled through a mouthful of pink frosting and sprinkles. “I didn't think I'd see you much since MR moved me down here. You come to records often?”

The water buffalo held up a hoof to silence the spotted cat, glancing to the side, looking down the rows of file boxes to see if the other records clerk was present or still at lunch. When he was sure it was just the two of them in the basement, Bogo began. “Who took Lionheart's statement after we cleaned out Cliffside?”

Clawhouser blinked. “Oh, well, I donno. I can pull the files for you. If you want.”

“I do.” Bogo nodded. “All the files. Cliffside and every attack since. All the Savage files. Have them on my desk by the end of the day.”

“All of them?” The leopard set down his doughnut to look at him. He felt a tightness in his chest that Clawhouser associated with fallen comrades. It didn't happen very often, but every now and again the force lost one of its officers and he missed them. He missed all of them and the most recent one had been Judy Hopps, fallen in the line of duty protecting the mayor from a Savage attack. 

“Yes. All of them.” The Chief nodded. “And any of Lionheart's files from Cliffside that we might have in the evidence locker. I want to read those too.”

“Oh, well, the Cliffside data was given to them at the hospital to help with treating the Savages.” Clawhouser informed him. “Mm... A sheep named Fleechovitz, I think.”

“Another sheep.” Bogo's cop instinct flared up again. Something in the pit of his gut telling him that inconsequential detail was actually significant somehow. But he wasn't sure how, so he put it from his mind. Shaking the thought from his head, he forced himself to remain on topic. “You mean the hospital was given copies. We still have the originals, though. In evidence.”

“No.” The cheetah's cheeks jiggled as he shook his head in negative. “The originals were sent to the mayor's office. They were the ones who sent the copies to the hospital, not us. We don't have them anymore.” 

“What!” Bellowed the water buffalo, suddenly enraged at the very idea of someone in his department turning over evidence without his permission -or even his consultation for that matter. Someone was going to be fired for this! Such a break down in procedure was not going to be tolerated in his department! “Who approved the transfer? Who signed for it!?”

Startled, and maybe just slightly intimidated by the tall, muscular, and very angry slice of horned buffalo-bull that was now glaring down at him, Clawhouser jumped out of his seat. Dropping his doughnut on the desk as he did so. “Th-the order came from outside the department!” He hastened to explain in an effort to placate his superior's temper. “The new receptionist, Maggie -I mean, Muttonson- she said Bellwether wanted us to transfer custodianship of the Cliffside files to the mayor's office. They should be in city records now.”

Bogo's nostrils flared as he exhaled his frustration several time. That was the most unorthodox handling of documents belonging to an on-going case he'd ever heard of. But if the order came from the mayor's office, then there wasn't anything he could do about it. All he could do now, was continue to follow his hunches with the resources that he did have at his disposal. Bogo turned to storm out of the records room. “Pull the Savage files. Everything that we do have. I want them in my office by the end of the day!”

“Yes, sir! I'll get right on it!”

…

She tried organizing protests and peaceful marches against predator hate in her city and -wishfully- return Zootopia to the city she loved. To the unique, funny, and crazy place where a tiger and a gazelle could work and live together in harmony and friendship. Love. 

But whatever progress Gazelle might have made with her protests, marches, and TV interviews was all lost that night at the museum when a fox attacked the mayor. When the fox killed the police officer that tried to protect the mayor. Officer Judy Hopps was made a martyr and predators (all predators, Savage and civilized alike) were made the enemy. Predator versus prey. It was like the Dark Ages all over again. 

Gazelle was sick of it. 

The Taming Initiative was supposed to restore peace to the city. Give it security. But after actually reading the thing -very carefully, and all the way through- she was sure that it would do nothing but oppress innocent citizens and only succeed in alienating predators further. It would just continue to widen the rift that had formed between predator and prey, and keep widening it until the estrangement was irreversible. The damage irreparable. 

Once a month the City Council held open-door meetings that any resident of Zootopia could attend. If they had the forethought to book ahead of time, a Mammal could even speak at the meetings. Bring their grievances forward and lay them out for the Council directly. Usually, speaking time during a Council meeting had to be booked no less than a month in advance. But Gazelle used her status and more than considerable influence as a media super-star to pull some strings and get speaking time at the very next open-door meeting. She was going to tell the Council -and the mayor- exactly what she thought of their Taming Initiative, and make a few suggestions about just which orifice they could shove it up. 

Digging through her closet, Gazelle pushed aside flashy performance costumes, tight fitting clubbing dresses, and casual grunge-style pub-crawl outfits, until she finally found the thing she was looking for. The one thing in her closet that could be considered 'business formal'. A plain, boring, drab gray pants suit. There was no corresponding professional looking blouse, so she was forced to wear one of her club shirts under the blazer. But aside from that, the outfit looked presentable enough. 

Her mane, which she usually let hang in front of her eyes, was pulled back and out of her face. Arranged in a tight bun between her horns and clasped with a metal clip that was plated in gold to look like a tiger. 

Deciding she was ready for battle, Gazelle entered the Council chamber to wait her turn. 

The Taming Initiative was not the only issue the Council met to discuss. She sat patiently, listening to beavers discuss construction progress in Little Rodentia, or damn repairs between Tundra Town and the Rainforest District that needed to be made before spring ended and the real Zootopian summer began. Deliberations over how surplus revenue from parking tickets could be made, apparently, one enthusiastic meter maid managed to file over 200 tickets in one day! Disputes between local businesses. All the normal minutia of keeping a giant metropolis like Zootopia not just running, but thriving. 

Finally, it was Gazelle's turn to speak. 

She took to the podium. The white and silver clubbing top she wore under her blazer reflecting the chamber lights, making it look like she was wearing chain mail or armor under her suit. Like she was expecting to go charging into battle. 

Glancing at the notes and points she's jotted down on her CarrotPad, Gazelle cleared her throat and made eye-contact with each Council member and Mayor Bellwether before she began. 

“Thank you for indulging my request to speak.” She opened with a polite acknowledgment of the fact that her being given time at the meeting was special treatment because she was a celebrity. Everyone else whom had taken the floor before her went through the proper channels, and waited their month before getting the chance to speak before the city officials. “If you've caught any one of my appearances on TV lately, you might have already guessed why I'm here. The Taming Initiative. To put it simply, its unacceptable.”

She waited a moment to let that flat statement sink in and took a breath before continuing. As with sining, the key to public speaking was knowing when to breath. 

“And I'm not just saying that as someone who works closely with predators every day.” Gazelle continued. “But as a Mammal that believes that all Mammals, regardless of species, breed, or ancestry have certain inalienable rights. Basic Mammal Rights. The right to privacy and independence. The right to feel safe and secure in their own homes. The right to free association and assembly. All of these, however, are rights that the Taming Initiative threatens. The collars I find especially offensive, because it strips them of basic Mammal dignity and reduces them down to nothing more than animals, tagged for tracking and filing. This sort of thing is no different than what the Ratzi Party did to the Shrews back in the 1940s. First the tags, then the segregation, then relocating them, then... I don't think I need to remind this council what happened after that. We all know our world history.”

“That's a rather unfair comparison. Don't you think, honey.” Mayor Bellwether interrupted.

Gazelle fixed the diminutive little ewe with a hard eyed stare. “No, its not an unfair comparison. This sort of institutionalized speciesism is exactly how those things start. I'm sorry if my statement offends you, Madam Mayor, I know you wrote the initiative. But just because you're offended doesn't mean I'm wrong. This initiative is the exact opposite of everything our city stands for.” She then turned her gaze to the rest of the Council. Locking eyes with each one and holding their gaze for the space of a heartbeat before moving to the next one. “I urge this council to deny the Taming Initiative. There must be another way to stop the Savage outbreaks without de-Mammalizing our citizens.”

There was general rumble from the Council, an unreadable jumble of mixed feelings. 

“Your words are very provocative and passionately spoken.” The mayor nodded to her, knocking her comically over sized glasses down on her nose. “But the fact of the mater is, when these predators do go Savage, they are no different from animals. They might still be mammals anatomically, but they are no longer Mammals in behavior or thought. We have to protect the rest of the population from them.” 

This time, the general rumble from the City Council was of agreement with the mayor.

And Gazelle noticed then that the Council was all prey. She had never noticed before when Lionheart was in office because he was a predator and he sat centered as figurehead. But without Lionheart around, and now Bellwether in office, she noticed that all ten members of the City Council were all prey, and they were all scared. Gazelle felt a white-hot and righteous anger begin to boil under her skin. 

“Are you telling me-” she tried to suppress the growl and keep her voice even, but it quivered from the effort, “-that predators who have gone Savage are no longer Mammals? And, thus, no longer entitled to basic Mammals Rights?”

“Nobody here said that.” The Secretary of the Treasury, a young female giraffe who wore glasses almost half as large as her face, said to her.

“No, I think that's exactly what the mayor just said.” Gazelle argued. She turned her focus back to the small sheep with the oversized red-framed glassed. “You don't think predators are Mammals.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I didn't say all predators.” Bellwether pushed her glassed back up the bridge of her snout and gave the other female a sympathetic smile. “Just the ones that have gone Savage.”

“Then why are you lobbying to take away rights from all predators?” The pop-star pressed, not moved by Bellwether's sweet country belle demeanor in the least. “That's what the Taming Initiative will do. Don't deny it, its all written up and posted on the city's website. Limited travel for predators. Stricter regulations on new predators looking to move to our city. More excuses to seize property from predators -excuses that don't apply to prey, I might add. The collars! You are profiling predators. You are taking rights away from predators. You are institutionalizing laws that discriminate against predators. That is exactly what you're doing. Or, what you will be doing if the Taming Initiative is passed.”

She might have said more. But was cut off and reminded that they had limited time there were still more Mammals whom had booked time to speak. 

Gazelle huffed in frustration, feeling like nothing had been accomplished. But she wouldn't gain anything by pitching a fit. Biting her tongue and swallowing her words, Gazelle thanked the Council for taking the time to listen to her concerns and left. Walking right out of the Council Chamber.

In the back row of seats, a small female rabbit wearing a light silk scarf and glasses followed Gazelle's exit with her eyes. Violet eyes that gazed at the songstress' retreating back with admiration and approval. 

Later that evening, the Facebook and Twitcher personality known only as 'Carrots' started an independent blog. Her first post, a video -taken with cell phone- of Gazelle's speech, compete with written transcript of the Council meeting minutes (for those Mammals whom refused to keep updating their Flash every two months). With special emphasis on Gazelle's comments about the Taming Initiative. 

…

“Well, I don't know how you knew it, but you were right.” 

Primal had Nick strapped down, checking his blood pressure when Lakeson walked in. The results of the new blood test in on her hoof. Nick was strapped down, but not sedated and he snarled loudly when she entered. Turning his head to face the new Mammal and snap his jaws impotently in her direction. 

Lakeson ignored him. “Results came back and it looks like your hunch about organic compounds was right. Take a look at this.”

She passed him the document, still a bit warm from the fax machine, and pointed to the line in the chart she was talking about. It was exactly what Primal was expecting the lab to find, but he feigned surprise anyway. Had to keep up appearances. “Oh! Would you look at that. I'm actually kinda relived. If this test came back negative for anything, I would have been completely at a loss as to find a cause.”

“Natural predator biology wasn't a satisfying cause for you?” Lakeson snorted dryly. 

Primal gave her a lop-sided look. “You and I both know, that's not how biology works.”

Taking the sheet back from the gorilla, Lakeson slipped the blood test results into the file labeled 'Wilde, Nickolas P.' and smiled. “Ya know, Primal, I'm actually glad they transferred you here. You might have come out of nowhere, but you're not dumb. And unlike that sheep I'm forced to call 'boss' now, you actually know what you're doing.”

Her returned her smile. “Now that we know the underlying cause is, we can stop treating the symptoms and start treating the actual problem. Maybe even cure them all together and finally end this Savage Crisis all together.”

“My... aren't you optimistic.” This time the hippo's smile was coy, almost flirtatious. “First of all, we don't even know what this organic compound is, never mind what antitoxin we should administer. We'd have to reverse engineer the drug before we could come up with a detox regiment. That doesn't even begin to take into account individual patients' preexisting medical conditions that could be affected by a new and unknown treatment. Thyroid, liver function, pancreas, compromised immune systems, heck! Just allergies. If you think we can just up and cure them completely then I should start calling you Optimist Primal.”

…

There might not have been a body for a funeral, but the Hopps family still insisted on holding a ceremony to remember their daughter. 

It was an outdoor service, held on the family's property. It was all the way out in Bunnyborough, but Chief Bogo still insisted on attending. 

So did Mayor Bellwether. Judy did save her life, after all. 

The department covered the expenses, of course. A full funeral was one of the benefits given to officers of the Zootopia Police Department. Even so, the Hopps kept it modest and simple. White plastic lawn chairs set up on the top of the hill the Hopps Warren was dug into. Flowers lining up and down the center row. A podium at the front next to a large photograph of Judy from her Academy graduation ceremony -clad in police dress-uniform, hat under her arm, smile wider than her cheeks, badge bright and shining on her chest. 

Her parents gave a lovely eulogy. About how Judy was a stubborn, idealistic, revolutionary from the very beginning. How she decided to announce to -not just her parents- but her entire school and the county that she was going to move to Zootopia and become the first rabbit police officer ever. Nine years old. Nine years old and not only knew what she wanted to do with her life, but knew it and believed in it with such a conviction that she made it happen. Talked about how -as parents- they were the ones who were supposed to protect and teach her, but Judy managed to educate them. Be the kind of Mammal they could look up to. Even inspired them to go into business with a Mammal they wouldn't have otherwise considered partnering with were it not for her. 

At the mention of that detail, a thick-built fox in the third row let out a sob and blew into a bandanna. 

They finished by admitting that they spent the majority of Judy's life objecting to her goals and dreams. They didn't want her to move to the big city. They didn't want her woking a dangerous job. Worried -as was every parent's right- that something terrible was going to happen to her. Hearing that, one might think that they were going to end their eulogy by pointing out that they were proven correct. Something terrible did happen to their little girl after she moved to the big city to work her dangerous job. But they didn't. 

Bonnie and Stu were proud of her. Proud of work that she had done. The Mammals she rescued. The lives she saved. Judy Hopps was a hero. But before she was a hero, she was their daughter. Their little girl. 

A polar bear no one had seen before stood behind the back row and filmed the whole thing. 

After the eulogy the guests got up to pay their respects to the family. 

Bogo shook hooves with both Stu and Bonnie and offered his condolences. He admitted that, at first, the Chief didn't recognize the value of Judy Hopps. He saw her as nothing more than the token small Mammal the department was obligated to hire as part of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative. But Hopps -Judy- proved her value. Not once, but twice. By finding all of the Missing Mammals, the ones that became known as the Savages. But also in protecting the mayor from another Savage predator. She was worth six of his regular officers and he regretted the fact that it took him so log to realize it. 

The mayor was right behind him. Bogo almost stepped on her as he turned around to leave -he'd paid his respects, there was no reason for him to stay and he'd been away from the city long enough. 

“Oh! Mayor Bellwether! I'm so sorry!” He said, upon realizing his near-miss of the small ewe whom was just barely taller than his knee. Then he noticed that she was alone and unaccompanied. “Your boyfriend didn't want to escort you?”

That struck him as odd. Never mind that she was the mayor of Zootopia and shouldn't be without at least one escort simply on principal. These were dangerous times and she'd already been attacked once. But this was also a funeral. A funeral for the person who saved her life. Wouldn't the ram she was dating want to come with her? If for no other reason than to provide emotional support. 

“Boyfriend?” The diminutive sheep blinked up at him. “Oh! You mean Doug! No. Dougie couldn't make it. Someone made a mess of his work and he had to clean it up. But I'll tell him you asked after him. He'll be flattered.”

She brushed past the water buffalo to the Hopps. Bogo watched her for a moment longer as she hugged Bonnie Hopps, and began sobbing into the other female's shoulder about how much she liked Judy personally and how amazing and heroic she was when protecting her from the fox. Her loss was so unfair. Why is the universe so cruel?

The whole scene seemed a little off to Bogo. Surreal, but not in the fun 'I've had to much to drink' sort of way. More the 'is this how people act?' sort of way. Bellwether was collected when she was speaking to him just now. Calm. Sure, she looked a little downcast, she was at a funeral, after all. But while her body language and posture was 'dejected' she didn't seem quite as bereaved as the rest of those in attendance. Especially not bereaved enough to prompt the kind of tears she was currently soaking Mrs. Hopps' top with. 

Not for the first time, Chief Bogo felt like something was off. Not what it should be. 

This whole case seemed to have that feeling to it. A feeling of 'something's not quite right'. From the absence of a body at the crime scene, to Bellwether announcing Judy's death without a confirmation, the mayor's office confiscating the Cliffside files, and now the mayors behavior that -if Bogo didn't know any better- might be called acting. Fake. 

But that was a ridiculous thought. Dawn Bellwether was mayor of Zootopia. What did she have to gain by faking a police officer's death and using said death to propose laws that -hadn't even passed yet- and were already tearing the city in two? There was no motive. 

Bogo shook his head. The only was to get to the bottom of this was to get back to his office and continue sifting through the files that Clawhouser delivered -as promised. Maybe then he'd have a better idea of what was really going on in his town.


	5. Lines Between Predators & Prey

“Hey, did you guys see what one of the Savages' doctors posted on Twitcher?” Rajesh sauntered into rehearsal late and on his phone. 

The other three tigers and Gazelle looked up at him. Ashok heaved what he hoped sounded like a disappointed sigh and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the other male. Rajesh was Ashok's brother -from the same litter- and while they were the same age, Rajesh always appeared like a younger brother. The kind of younger brother that needed looking after. 

Before joining Ashok as a member of Gazelle's troupe, Rajesh was unemployed, directionless, and motivationless. He attended a few years at a community collage just taking general courses with the intension of 'figuring out what he wanted to do'. 

But after his third year without picking a major, their parents cut him off and Rajesh found himself without a source of income, without any marketable skills, and without a safety net. Ashok, ever the protective older brother (actually he was a few minutes younger) dragged his brother to live with him and his girlfriend -whom at the time was still passing out home-made CDs and attending indie music festivals in the hope of being discovered. At the time, Ashok's physical therapist's license was still current and up-to-date and he put Rajesh to work in the office, checking in clients, scheduling appointments, and making sure the papers got filed. 

In retrospect, Gazelle and the rest of them probably wouldn't have made it big if it wasn't for Rajesh. It was his crazy idea to film a video of the two of them dancing (like idiots) while Gazelle played what would become her debut single. The video went viral. A prey type Mammal playing the guitar and singing serenely while two predators spasmed and frolicked around her. It was the hook that caught Gazelle her record deal and launched them into the mainstream media. 

It was also how Rajesh Patel found his calling. He was a social media wizard and managed the group's official Zoobook, Twitcher, and InstaSnap accounts. 

It was also why he was late, or mentally absent from rehearsals more than often than was any of them would have liked. 

Rajesh looked up from his phone at his frowning brother and the other two tigers flanking him. “What?”

“Practice started fifteen minutes ago.” Park announced from Ashok's right side. 

“Honey, this is the second time this week you've swanned in like a prima donna.” Rodrigo added, resting a paw on his hip in a way that made his stance appear more femanine. 

Rajesh opened his mouth to protest, but before he said anything that could escalate this session of reprimands into a full out argument, Gazelle cut everyone off. Stepping forward, placing a gentle hoof on Ashok's shoulder to pacify him, she looked at the tardy tiger and asked, “What did the Savages' doctor say?”

Ever since Mayor Bellwether proposed the Taming Initiative, the Savages and predators in general were a subject of particular interest to Gazelle. 

Blinking for a moment, thrown by how quickly and deftly she had diffused what would have otherwise turned into a shouting match, Rajesh looked back down at his phone. “Oh. Uh, well, he can't say very much over Twitcher. Patient confidentiality and all. But he says that some tests came back funny and they're looking into underlying causes for what could be making them go Savage. It may not be biological after all.” A pause. Then he added, “You can follow him at @OptemistPrimalMaximize. If you want.”

“I think I will.” Gazelle nodded. Then it was her turn to pause and think. “How are are they in their research? Do they need any kind of help? Volunteers, or funding?”

“Oh, well, I donno.” Rajesh admitted. 

“I think I'm gonna look into this.” And she walked right out of the studio they had rented for their practice. It was safe to say that rehearsal was over for the day. 

Ashok clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Congratulations, my little bhaee, you have just missed an entire rehearsal. I don't know why I keep hoping that you're gonna wake up one day and finally decide to be an adult.”

…

Before, their lab for growing, curing, and refining the Night Howler was small. Set up in a disused subway car, in an abandoned and forgotten segment of the underground. It added an amusing little extra layer to the phrase 'underground operation'. Was that a little on the nose? At the time, Bellwether didn't care. 

But that lab went up in flames -also literally- when Judy Hopps and her damnable pred boyfriend dropped in and stole the party -then crashed the party. 

Since that spectacular example of what happens when you put idiots in charge of a super important, super secret, chemical weapons lab, Bellwether was in need of a new lab. She had to make do with the same moronic flunkies, but the lab she needed a new one. New location. New equipment. New plants. 

Bellwether took care of getting the new plants during her obligatory teary appearance at Judy's funeral. Some idiot farmer had lined their field with a row of them. They were all just lined up along the side of the road. Almost like they were asking to be dug up and brought back into the city. Long stretching country roads with little traffic meant that no one was around to see it. A minor act of vandalism and theft with no witnesses. 

If anyone might have seen her and confronted her about taking the flowers, Bellwether would just say that she thought they were pretty and wanted some for her balcony garden. She didn't know they were toxic. She lived in a small apartment in a big city. What did she know?

But no one stopped her.

The little ewe got her new plants and got back to the city without any hassle -not even a speeding ticket, although she did go over the speed limit a couple of times. 

The old lab was underground in an abandoned subway car. The new lab was in an abandoned structure in the intentionally uncultivated and wild looking Rainforest District. Bellwether chose the Rainforest District because it was far from City Central, where the original lab was located. But also because it was left mostly wild the trees growing however they pleased, there was an abundance of abandoned buildings that had been overtaken by roots growing up through he floor, or vines growing down through the ceiling or walls. 

Bellwether thought the structure she chose might have been some kind of restaurant. Or other similar such small business that offered fresh food. A bakery, deli, or grocery. Regardless of what it used to be, it was disused and abandoned now. 

She left Dough, Woolter, and Jesse to clear the place out a little bit. Nothing major. It wasn't like they were going to be opening it back up as a legitimate business. Just cut down the floors so they were walkable, and cut out at least one door so it was passible. Leave the rest of the overgrowth over the windows, it would help conceal what they were doing. Set up the soil beds and grow lamps. Aquire new boilers and distillers to refine their plants into the essential oil they loaded their ammo with. 

Admittedly, Bellwether wasn't expecting to much when she walked into the new building. But she was pleasantly surprised to find that clean-up was almost complete and set up could begin.

“Not bad, I think.” Doug commented, as he watched the smaller sheep climb over an awkwardly large root he'd intentionally left in the doorway -in order to trip uninvited intruders. He did not offer to help Dawn as she swung one small leg over it, then the other. “We're almost ready to start production again. That is... assuming we have a product still...”

In answer to that, Bellwether threw a (relatively) large wicker beach bag at his feet. One Night Howler bulb rolled out, only stopping when it came into contact with Doug's foot. 

“Well, I guess that's everything then.” Commented the ram. He bent down to pick up the bulb at his feet and replace it in the bag with the rest. “We can get started right away.”

“Do that.” Nodded Bellwether. “Now that the city thinks there's been a death, I want to capitalize on the panic. Double the Savage attacks. Make them have predators. Their fear will solidify my power-base. In a few short weeks we'll own this city!”

“Are you going to do a maniacal laugh?” The ram asked. 

Bellwether paused to look up at him like he was an idiot. “No. That's stupid. Nobody does that.” 

“Okay, 'cause it sounded like you were about to.”

“Just shut up and get back to work!” The diminutive little ewe stormed out of the building. She waited until she was back in her own car, all the doors closed and the windows rolled up before indulging in a laugh. Starting deep in the pit of her stomach, rising from the back of her throat and finished in a shrill, “Mua-ha-ha-ha.”

…

It was the most frustrating feeling in the world. Not being allowed in a place. Gazelle was no longer used to being denied access. Sure, back when she was still undiscovered and anonymous she was turned away all the time. But that was years ago. Since becoming a pop-diva, the face of Preyda, and icon for various other multi-media, Gazelle had become accustomed to having an unwritten all-access pass to everywhere. 

“Look, its great that your loving liberal heart bleeds for these animals.” Said one of the rhino security guards blocking her way into the Savages' Ward. “But unless you're family of one of the patients here, or else have written permission to be here, I can't let you through. These 'mammals' are dangerous.”

Just as he said that, a sweet and gentle looking female otter walked out of the ward. With a pale blue cardigan sweater, sunday hat skewed off to one side, and a handkerchief clutched in her hand. Looking hopeless and forlorn. Oh, yeah, some real dangerous predators there. 

“Heading home already, Mrs. Otterton?” Asked the second security guard in a far gentler voice. 

With a sniffled, the small Mammal turned around to look at the larger rhino. She forced a polite smile on her face, but Gazelle could see that there was no joy in it. As far as this Mrs. Otterton was concerned, she didn't have anything to smile about. “I have to pick my children up from school. Summer break beings today and they get out early.”

The rhino nodded. “Be safe out there.” 

“Thank you. I will.” Mrs. Otterton turned away before wiping her handkerchief across her eyes and continuing on to the elevator. 

“Poor thing.” The gentle rhino commented to the one who was still glaring at Gazelle. “She must be really strong, going through all of this and taking care of those pups all on her own. You think she'll bring them next visit.”

The other guard shot his partner a scathing look. As if to say, 'don't talk about patients or their family's personal business in front of strangers, idiot'. But all he said was, “She probably doesn't want them to see their father like that. I know if I had kids, I wouldn't want that.”

Gazelle looked back at the closing elevator doors, realizing for the first time that this crisis was harming more than just the social perception of predators as a whole, or individual Mammals that were attacked. This crisis was destroying families. Taking parents away from their children, and mates away from heir spouses. Turning her attention back to the two security guards blocking her path, Gazelle redoubled her resolve. “I'm not asking to see the Savages. I want to see whoever's in charge.”

“Then have your agent call and make an appointment.” They told her. “I'm sure the city will jump at the chance to broadcast that the great goddess Gazelle is behind them in this time of crisis.”

That was not what the Great Goddess Gazelle wanted. She didn't want to be just a propaganda model for the city to placate its citizens with. She wanted to actually make a difference. Help fix the problem somehow. Even if that help was nothing more than passing out water bottles to the doctors and researchers while they searched for the underlying causes of the Savage outbreaks and, by extension, the cure for them. That was what Gazelle wanted.

Luckily, she didn't have to kep arguing with the security guards much longer, because at that exact moment, two other Mammals wearing the white lab coats of medical doctors walked out. A female hippopotamus and male gorilla. They were immersed in their own conversation and didn't notice Gazelle at first. 

“Reverse engineering a toxin is difficult, but I've got a friend in the Timberland district who might be able to help.” The gorilla was saying. “He works more with spiders, but I imagine the principal is the sa- oh! I'm sorry!”

The gorilla was cut off mid-sentence when he accidentally bumped into Gazelle. Accident though it was, his considerable muscle and bulk sent the slender, lighter framed Mammal into the wall. Realizing his error, the gorilla was quick to offer her a hand and a more sincere apology. 

“I'm really sorry, Miss. Totally my fault. My colleague and I were so immersed on our conversation I didn't see y- Holy crap! You're Gazelle!”

Taking the offered hand, the pop-diva stood back up and adjusted her skirt to make sure nothing indecent was showing. “Yes. I am. And you are?”

“Dr. Primal.” He supplied. “And this is Dr. Lakeson. We-”

“You're the ones looking for the cause of all the Savage outbreaks.” Gazelle supplied. “I recently started following you on Twitcher. You're exactly the Mammals I came to see.” She paused to check the time. “Were you just heading out to lunch? Let me treat you.” 

Primal and Lakeson exchanged a look, then a shrug. After all, how often was it that a pop star, diva, goddess invited you out to lunch?

…

Fru-fru sat in Judy's lap as they watched the video Raymond had taken for her of her own memorial service. It was a kind of morbid and surreal feeling, watching her own funeral. The things her parents said were beautiful and Judy almost cried herself. Not because it was her funeral, but because he family believed she was dead and she could see how much it hurt them. All this pain she was causing them by not letting them know that she was alive... it broke Judy's heart. 

“I should have called them.” She muttered to no one in particular. “They deserve to know I'm not dead.” 

“Its better for them not to know.” That was the moment Koslov walked in, holding Mr. Big in one paw. The large polar bear deposited the deceptively harmless looking crime boss on the table next to Judy. 

Mr. Big leaned over to place a paw on his daughter's swollen belly and felt the baby shrew kick under his paw. She was due any day now and everyone was watching her closely. Fru-fru already had two false alarms just this weekend. Both times it turned out to be nothing more than Braxton-Hicks contractions, not real labor. But both times her husband and a number of the attending polar bear guards were sent into a panic. With Dr. Primal working another assignment for Mr. Big, they didn't have another physician on call that the crime lord trusted with his family. 

“But they're hurting!” Judy argued, glaring up at the titanic bear.

Koslov gave an unconcerned shrug. “What is a emotional pain compared to their lives? I have a wife and a son. If I was in your position, yes, they would hurt thinking I was dead. But I'd rather they hurt but live than know I was alive and get killed for knowing. Sometimes there is no 'right decision', Ms. Hopps. Sometimes you have to choose the less terrible option.”

“Listen to Koslov, child.” Mr. Big commanded. “He has experience you do not.”

Judy decided this was an argument she as no about to win, so she decided to take the high road and not press the issue. Instead, she turned back to the video of her service. It was really flattering that Gideon Gray not only showed up, but actually cried. She would not have expected that. They never were friends as kits, and then they really only ever re-met that once as adults. He appoligized for his past behavior and she forgave him. That was it. It didn't exactly make them friends. It especially didn't make them close. Yet, there he was crying for her as if they were bosom companions. 

Emotional foxes. 

The image of Nick rose to her mind. Looking betrayed, angry, and a little afraid at the press conference. The infamous press conference where she messed everything up. 

Judy set the phone aside, the video still playing as Chief Bogo and Mayor Bellwether went up to talk to her parents. “Any word from Primal on the Savages? Any news about Nick?”

“Only what you already know from following that internet book you youngsters are always on.” Mr. Big informed her. 

Almost as if on cue, the video playing on Raymond's phone was interrupted by a Zoobook alert. Apparently, Kevin tagged him in a photo. Embarrassed, the polar bear took his phone back and put it away. 

“They're looking into causes.” Judy echoed in a tired and unsatisfied voice. “That's so stupid. He knows what's causing them to go Savage. I told him. I told all of you! Why can't he just go in there and cure it. Or detox it. Or whatever it is that doctors do when a Mammal is poisoned?”

“Because as far as the rest of the city is concerned, he doesn't know what's going on anymore than anyone else does.” Koslov supplied. “If you want this done right, then it has to be done slowly. Be patient.”

If Fru-fru hadn't been sitting on her lap, Judy might have bolted to her feet in anger. Instead, all she did was flair her ears and snarl a very un-bunny like snarl. “That's all any of you keep say! Be patient! Wait for the right opportunity. These things take time. This isn't freaking Jedi training, okay! This is the fate of an entire city! Mammals are in danger! Mammals could die while we're sitting on our thumbs doing nothing!”

“Judy...” Fru-fru tried to say. 

But the rabbit ignored her. “Nick is my friend and he's been drugged to the point of insanity by Bellwether. Mr. Otterton has a wife and children who are missing him and probably losing hope that he'll ever return to them. Mr. Manchas worked for you, he was one of your associates. Savages attack innocents. Everyone thinks a Savage killed me! How many more terrible things need to happen before you realize that waiting isn't the answer?”

“Judy!” Fru-fru snapped, cutting into everyone's argument. 

“What!?” The rabbit snapped back at the shrew on her lap. 

“I'm having contractions!” Fru-fru announced, doubled over, clutching her swollen belly. 

That got every other Mammal in the room to freeze, forget what they were arguing about, and instead direct their full and complete attention to the pregnant female. 

“Braxton-Hicks again?” Judy asked. 

Mr. Big looked up at Koslov. “Call Primal, I don't care if he's with the Savages at the moment. And someone find her idiot husband.”

Gently, very gently, Judy lifted Fru-fru off her lap and and set her on her feet, but didn't let go. Instead, the rabbit kept her paws under the shrew's arms, supporting most of her weight. 

“We should get her comfortable.” Raymond announced. 

“If all it is, is Braxton-Hicks again, then yes. All we can do is make her comfortable.” Judy agreed. “But if she's really going into labor, she needs to squat. Trust me. I help my mother deliver, like, sixty of my brothers and sisters. Fru, I need you to describe your contractions to me. Are hey getting closer together?”

“They hurt!” The shrew announced.

“I know, I know. They're supposed to.” Judy soothed. She looked up at Raymond who was just sort of standing there as if at a loss as to what to do. “Well? Didn't Mr. Big tell you to go find her husband? Go get her husband!”

Glad for some kind of direction that allowed him to leave the room, Raymond bolted. It wasn't that he was afraid of the pregnant shrew or anything. She was smaller than his paw and, thus, not intimidating at all. But she did appear to be going into labor and -having never been married and having no cubs of his own- the polar bear didn't quite know what to do with himself. Koslov, on the other hand, was the picture of calm serenity as he pulled out his own cell phone and called the mob doctor. 

…

They were all three prey, and there was a plethora of restaurants and food trucks that catered to prey in Zootopia (the city was 90% prey after all, there was no loss of business in excluding the other ten percent). But -personally- Gazelle preferred not to offer her patronage to businesses that excluded Mammals -regardless of what kinds of Mammals they were. So, the cafe she ended up taking Lakeson and Primal to was an inclusionist one. It was a bit farther from the hospital than was convenient, but she didn't hear either of them complain. 

They sat outside, enjoying the summer sun and the light breeze that sauntered through the streets. Both Gazelle and Lakeson ordered herbivore dishes, Primal surprised them both by ordering a predator dish. When they looked at him weird, the gorilla only shrugged. 

“What?” He blinked at them. “I'm omnivorous, I can eat whatever.”

Lakeson smiled ironically. “Its funny how the line between prey and predator types is sometimes blurred.”

“I agree.” Gazelle nodded. “The line isn't as clear and solid as society makes it out to be.”

“Actually...” Primal began awkwardly. “No one who lives in Zootopia -or any civilized society for that matter- is a predator. If you wanna get technical. A 'predator' is defined as an organism that hunts another organism, either by tracking or setting traps. By that definition, no one is a predator because no one has to 'hunt' for anything in this city. Everything is so readily available.”

“Ha! Or, I could be a predator, because sometimes I've gotta really hunt for a pair of good shoes.” That was a joke. Gazelle was the main model for Preyda and was never in want of stylish shoes that were specifically fitted for her hooves. 

“Or the police could be considered predators because they hunt criminals.” Lakeson added, thinking this line of conversation was actually very interesting on a philosophical level. Mammals were defined as prey or predator types based on how their ancestors survived. But their ancestors' methods of survival were no longer relevant to how Mammals lived now. So either the division between predator and prey should be erased, or else the definitions of each should be redefined. 

“Right.” Primal nodded. Or the mayor could be considered a predator because she was preying on innocent Mammals. Or Judy Hopps could be considered a predator because she relentlessly pursued her goals until she achieved them. “Or we could be considered predators because we're hunting for the cure to the Savage phenomenon.” 

“That is actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Gazelle placed her hooves on the table, interlocking her fingers. “As I understand it, you're only just now looking for underlying causes for the Savagery besides just 'its in their nature', and I wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help. Publicity, volunteer work, funding. I can arrange all three.”

They both looked taken aback. That was not what they were expecting to hear from the pop diva. Knowing that she worked closely with predators every day, they expected her to tell them that they were hateful idiots and the Savage outbreaks had nothing to do with 'nature' or 'genetics' and to please stop spreading ignorance and hate. (Not that the doctors treating the Savages were the ones spreading the ignorance and hate, but that didn't stop them from being targets for the opposition's harassment every now and again.)

“That's very kind of you.” Lakeson admitted. “But all out funding comes from the city. As do our personnel. You'd have to speak with the mayor's office if you want to contribute in that capacity. As for publicity... we're not really allowed to share more than what Primal here had already posted on his Twitcher account -which he did against my recommendation, I might add.”

“Oh.” Gazelle looked down, feeling strangely defeated. It was an uncomfortable feeling for her. She wasn't used to being discourage. A Mammal that got her start by passing out free demo CDs and posting videos online, managed to rise to the status she currently possessed, and was in a socially taboo relationship with one of her performers did not get discouraged easily. Pushing her defeated feeling to the said, Gazelle tried thinking of alternatives. These doctors seemed to want to do the right thing, but they wouldn't get very far in their research with only government funding. “What if we managed to raise enough money to move the Savages to an independent hospital where you two could do your research?”

“That's a dream.” Lakeson snorted though her wide hippo snout. 

Gazelle shook her head, she liked this new idea. “I don't think so. I can hold a concert to raise money for the building and the research. My people will keep enough to cover the production cost and pay the staff. But all profits from ticket, album, and t-shirt sales would go to Savage Research. What do you think?”

Primal and Lakeson exchanged a look. 

“It would be nice not to have Fleechovitz breathing down our necks all the time...” Primal admitted. That, and he liked the idea of getting the Savages away from the mayor's control. Mr. Big would probably like the idea too and might even be willing to put down a little cash of his own to ease the logistical burden. 

“I could feel like I'm actually helping Mammals again, not just babysitting them.” Lakeson agreed. She turned back to Gazelle. “Okay, I'm not saying I agree with this. I've work at Zootopia General almost since I graduated med school. But I do wanna stop the Savage outbreaks and I don't think that's gonna happen with the limitations the city is-”

She paused when Primal's cell phone began to ring. 

He reached for his phone to check the number. Recognizing who it was, he stood from the table. “Don't mind me, you ladies continue.”

Lakeson turned back to Gazelle. “Why don't you speak to your manager about just how viable this plan really is.”

“I will. Heh. I'll have to if I wanna set up a venue for the concert.” Agreed the other female. 

Primal came back to the table but did not sit down. “I have to go. That was... a patient from my independent practice. I'll probably be gone for the rest of the day.”

He left. 

Gazelle called for the chack. “I guess we should be going too. Lots of work to do if I'm gonna make this happen.”

“Just one more thing.” Lakeson asked. “Would you take a picture with me? I mean, its not every day the amazing Gazelle shows up at your work and takes you out to lunch!”

The pop diva suppressed a sigh. This was one of the inconvenient things that went along with stardom. Everyone you spoke to wanted to get a picture with you. She put on her best people pleasing smile. “Of course!”

Lakeson took two selfies and asked the server who brought their check to take one proper photo of them. 

“Thanks so much! This is going straight to my Zoobook and Twitcher!”


	6. Cures for the Crisis

A pie box in each hand, Chief Bogo returned to Precent One feeling despondent. As if he were responsible somehow for Hopps' death. 

It was an utterly absurd feeling, of course. He never ordered Hopps to pursue the Savages or protect the mayor. In fact, Hopps wasn't even an officer under his command at the time of her death. She had turned in her badge and taken a leave of absents from the force just a few short days prior to the incident. She was not under his command, not acting under his orders, not his responsibility. Her death was not his fault. 

Academically, Bogo understood this. 

So why then, did he feel responsible for it?

Was it because, from the first moment she was assigned to his precent, the buffalo did everything in his power make her feel unwelcome. Foisting jobs onto her that were beneath both her pay grade and her training. Demeaning tasks like meter maid. Or because he tried to engineer circumstances that would cause her to quit the force. Making that deal that she turn in her badge if she couldn't solve a case he's already been working on for weeks. 

All of those were certainly things to feel guilty over. The fact that her death occurred so soon after realizing just how wrong he was, and how valuable she was, was probably the source of his current mood. That, and having just returned from attending her memorial service and witnessing first hand, just how great an affect her loss had on the Mammals who knew her. 

Pushing these thoughts aside, Bogo set one of the pie boxes down on the reception desk. 

Muttonson smiled to him, but couldn't greet him properly him yet as she was busy taking down notes from a phone call. “Okay. Thank you so much for reporting this. We'll look into it right away. Okay. Take care now.” She hung up and turned her full attention to the Chief, her smile widening until she was practically beaming at him. “Welcome back, Chief. What's this?”

She lifted the lid of the pie box and smelled the delicious aroma of fresh baked blueberry pie. 

“From the bakery that catered Hopps' service.” He supplied. 

“Oh, right, that was today.” Her smile melted into a look of sympathy, thin oval ears coming down, eyes going big. Her face changed expression so easily, Bogo wondered what she was doing working reception, with such an expressive exterior, she would have made bank as an actress. “How are you holding up? Do you wanna talk about it.”

No. They were not that close. “It wasn't the first memorial service I've attended and it won't be that last.” He said soberly. He eased the pie box closer to her. “This is for you. Sort of a 'welcome to the precent and sorry its so awkward working with cops' gift. Is Clawhouser still in?”

“Yes.” Nodded the ewe. “He asked me to place an order for pizza on his behalf about thirty minutes ago.” An amused smile. “Is the other pie for him? He does have quite the appetite.”

“Yes.” Nodded the buffalo. 

“You didn't get anything for yourself?” And this seemed to bother her for some reason. 

She reached into the reception desk and pulled out her purse -a rather impressively sized Preyda tote. Rummaging around in it for several moments she finally pulled out an empty plastic container (leftover from her sack-lunch) and a -holy crap! Was that a military grade ka-bar? What the hell was sweet little Maggie Muttonson doing with a serious business weapon like that?

Using the over-sized knife, Muttonson cut the pie in half and transferred one half to the empty lunch box. This she passed back to the chief. “There you go. That way you get to enjoy the pie too.”

He stared at her as she used one of the hand sanitizing wipes they kept in a dispenser for public use to clean her blade. Bogo cleared his throat. “Ahm. Thank you.”

The Chief brushed past the reception desk and caught the elevator downstairs to records. 

He saw the open pizza box before he saw the cat eating it. 

The moment Clawhouser realized he had another visitor, he put his slice down and waved to the buffalo. “Hey, Chief, welcome back. I put all the files in your office just like you asked.” 

“I saw before I left.” Bogo nodded. He placed the second pie box on the desk next to the pizza. “This is for you. One of the Hopps' friends owns a bakery and catered the service for them. You'll like it.” A pause. “Has anyone else come down here asking for the Savage files?”

“No.” Clawhouser shook his head, opening the pie box. It sure looked delicious! He reached into his desk and pulled out a plastic knife, cut a slice, and took a bite. Then moaned with pleasure. The kind of moan that made other Mammals uncomfortable. “O-M-Goodness! I must find this baker, and I must marry them!”

He flipped the box shut again to read the name of the bakery. Gideon Gray's Bakery. Clawhouser didn't know who this Gideon Gray fellow was, but if he was the one to bake this pie, then they were soul mates!

“Anyway...” Now Bogo was feeling very, very awkward. “Let me know if anyone else comes asking about the files.”

…

Judy supported Fru-fru with one paw, helping the shrew squat, while the other paw was poised between her legs, ready to catch the literally about to be born baby that was crowning there. 

“You're doing great.” The rabbit soothed. “One more push and you can meet your daughter.”

Fru-fru's face scrunched up with the effort. Her fur puffing out, the skin beneath it turning red. She gave one final push and a single little shrewlet slipped out into Judy's waiting paw. Tiny and pink, no bigger than one of the finger's on the rabbits paw. Sticky and still covered in birthing fluid. She was adorable -except she wasn't a 'she'.

“Aw...” Judy wrapped the tiny shrewlet in a square of cotton muslin. “Looks like little goddaughter is actually a godson.”

“What?” Both Fru-fru and her husband both blinked at the rabbit as she passed the baby bundle to them. Fru-fru shifted the fabric to get a better look at her newborn... son. “Well, would you look at that...”

Her husband looked at the newborn shrewlet, then back at his wife. “You're not... you're not still gonna name him 'Judy', are you?”

“Why not?” Fru-fru asked, as if his question was ridiculous. “Boys can have girls names. Your favorite character from Firefly was a big tough rihno named Jayne.”

“I went to high school with a boy named Sue.” Judy volunteered, as if this detail was helpful. 

This conversation might have continued, had Dr. Primal not entered at that exact moment. 

“I came as soon as I could. How is-” The gorilla stopped short when he saw that the labor was already over and Fru-fru and her husband were holding a healthy sized shrewlet bundle. “Oh.”

“Turns out, its a boy.” Judy informed the doctor. Then, realizing that this might not be the first information the doctor needed to hear upon arriving, she added, “I helped with the delivery. Me and my sisters all grew up helping our mom with her deliveries. Its a common practice in bunny families. I don't have any kind of certification or anything, but I'm basically a midwife.”

“Then I'm glad you were here.” Primal nodded. He didn't say it out loud, but she might actually have been a better choice to help the shrew deliver simply because of their respective sizes. Primal was a gorilla and as such was so large as to make helping a tiny shrew through her labor awkward. Judy, on the other paw, while she was still larger than Fru-fru, was still closer in size to make the delivery run more smoothly. “Aside from me getting the gender competently wrong, anything else unexpected?”

“No.” Judy shook her head. “It was a little faster than what I'm used to. But my mother says that smaller Mammals have shorter labors, so I'd attribute it to that. Oh! And as a point of clarification, you were wrong about the baby's sex, not his gender. Gender identity is a social construct, and doesn't necessarily have to have anything to do with the sex organs they're born with.” She smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, but I'm a firm believer in not pigeonholing Mammals into social roles based on what they're born as.”

Said the first rabbit to ever become a police officer.

“You still want us to name him 'Judy', don't you.” The husband deadpanned, guessing at a possible ulterior motive for that last statement.

“Judy can be a boy's name.” Fru-fru informed her husband as if he was being completely ridiculous and needed to get with the times. Besides, Judy Hopps saved Fru-fru's life and now just delivered their son. What better way to honor the woman whom already did so much for their family?

“Why don't I let you work this out amongst yourselves.” Primal stepped out. He bumped into Raymond in the hall. “Oh. You're back.” Then, in a slightly more hushed voice, leaned in and asked, “Were you able to get what I asked?”

The polar bear nodded, reaching a paw into his pocket and pulling out one small bulb with a thin and crumpled stem growing out from it. There might also have been a purple-blue flower on the end of this stem. But if there had been, all the petals must have fallen off from being jostled around in the bear's pocket for who knows how long. “They were all lined up on the edge of her family's field, just like she said.”

Reaching a hand-like paw out, the gorilla took the offered bulb. “Thanks. I've got a friend in Timberland who works with poisons. He usually just works with spiders, but I can't imagine making an antidote for a plant-based toxin is much different.”

“You don't have any plant doctor friends?” Raymond asked. 

“Botanist.” Primal supplied. “And no. Just one creepy etymologist-arachneologist.” 

…

“Oh, honey, you are fierce!” Rodrigo exclaimed after Gazelle explained the new concert plan to her four preforming mates (and their manager). “Stealing control right out from under the city. Gurl, when you make a power play, you make a power play!”

The four tigers seemed to be on board with the plan. Well, to varying degrees of 'on board', but overall they all liked the idea of funding research on what was causing the Savage outbreaks and both curing those already affected and preventing any new Mammals from falling victim to it. As predators themselves, they had a personal interest in the matter. 

Their manager on the other hand... was not so invested. Barry Kiddis was a middle aged goat that had been in the entertainment business since the days of cassette tapes. The guys liked to say that he still carried around an old WalkMammal instead of a CarrotPod, Zoon, or other such -modern- MP3 player. He liked the idea of making things 'edgy' or 'sensationalist'. But those were just buzz words he liked to throw around in sales pitches. He didn't really mean them. Kiddis was a product of an older establishment and got a little scared now and again when these young Mammals started throwing around their young Mammal ideas.

“We are due for another concert.” The goat nodded. “And a charity function will certainly boost sales. But there'd be no profit in it.” 

“That shouldn't matter.” Gazelle blinked at her manager as if he hadn't been listening. “Its not about making a profit, its about doing what we can to help out a lot of innocent Mammals who aren't getting the help they need.” 

“Don't you think the city might have some objections to you trying to take control of these dangerous predators away from them?” Kiddis continued to argue. “Aren't you worried about taking these dangerous predators away from the security they're under?”

“How secure can they be?” Ashok asked. “I mean, they're allowed visitors just like any other normal hospital patients. 'Zelle says she saw the otter's wife there. Its not like they're under any sort of special lockdown.”

The old goat still did not look convinced. 

“I've already started writing a new song.” Gazelle added. “If its profit that you're worried about, the concert's ticket sales and on-site merchandise sales will be for charity, but all sales of the new single can be for profit. Does that make you feel better.”

It did, actually. Earning money always made him feel better.

“I'll have to set up a meeting with the mayor's office.” Kiddis surrendered. He never could argue against a talent like Gazelle for to long. In addition to being one of the most profitable artists he represented, she was also stubborn and determined. Sometimes it was like trying to fight a force of nature. Swift, strong, and unrelenting. “We don't want to step on any powerful hooves. The Savage crisis is already enough of a social and political powder keg as it is.”

…

His hoof froze over the top file in the box. 

After a day and a half of sifting through all the Savage files -from the original missing Mammals reports to the paperwork when they were admitted to Zootopia General- Bogo finally reached the case file for the museum incident. The case file that documented Officer Hopps' heroic death in the line of duty. 

Sighing to himself, the water buffalo mentally prepared himself. Hopps wasn't the first of his officers to fall in the line of duty and she wouldn't be the last. Bogo pulled the file out of the box. Underneath the file were the case's corresponding photos and evidence bags. Plaster casts of the rabbit prints in the sand of the sunken exhibit, samples of gray fur that looked like rabbit fur, and one orange and green plastic novelty pen. 

Hopps was a paradoxical Mammal. On the one hand she was a relentless and determined force of nature, aspiring to high goals and rising to meet them. On the other hand, she was -in some ways- an innocent and naive child. Oh, she wasn't literally a child. Judy Hopps was 24 when she graduated the police academy. Well above the age of majority. But there were small little things, Bogo noticed, insignificant details that were below her years. Smiling at every other officer when she entered the briefing room, as if it were the first day of school and she was teacher's pet. Volunteering for the Otterton case without consulting her commanding officer. Using a child's novelty pen instead of a normal grown-up pen or pencil. 

Reaching a hoof into the box, Bogo pulled out the bag holding the pen. 

Fat, round, and orange. With a green plastic leaf topping it to complete that carrot look. As the police Chief looked at the pen, he noticed a small round speaker and a tiny button on one side. A talking pen. Probably something from her youth. A favorite TV show or something? Wasn't there a series about fifteen years ago about a magical bunny from the moon who used a pen to transform and fight evil? That was just the sort of thing Bogo imagined Hopps liking as a kit. 

He put the pen aside for the moment, he pulled out the rest of the evidence bags in the box and checked to see if there were any other files in the bottom. Bogo was looking for one specific one -the first one. The first missing Mammal file, which would -presumably- be the first Savage case. Since he no longer had access to Cliffside's files, it was difficult to pinpoint the very first Savage, so he was left to guess based off the missing Mammals files. 

But it was slow goings. Four boxes of files and corresponding physical evidence, and none of it was in any kind of order. Bogo was looking for Lionheart's statement from when they pulled the missing mammals from Cliffside. Since the hospital couldn't seem to do more than just make the Savages comfortable, the police chief decided to look into what was causing the outbreaks. If they couldn't cure it, he could at least stop it. The former mayor insisted that he didn't cause the outbreaks, he was just trying to help those affected, using morally questionable methods, but still with noble intensions. 

Bogo didn't agree with his methods (and the majority of Zootopia was in agreement on that score, Lionheart did wrong) but he was not the cause. However, since he knew about the Savages, realized what was going wrong and managed to keep it quiet for so many months, maybe he might have some insights into how it started. 

…

Scott Silvers was a gray wolf living in Zootopia's Timberland district. He had a doctorate in entomology, the study of insects, but his true passion as actually arachneology -spiders. They were the 'dark poison of the heart' -his words, no one else's. No Mammal talked like that. Except Silvers. He was a little weird.

Primal took a deep breath before knocking on the wolf's door. He and Silvers were both members of the saw war reenactment group and through that acquaintance they had become sort of friends. But hanging out at a bar or a cafe after Historical Society meetings was very different than being in the spider-obsessed wolf's home. Primal had been over to Silvers's home once before -only once- and he swore never again. The place reminded him of that one scene from Alpha of the Rings, ya know, Shelob's lair.

Raising his hand-like paw, Primal knocked on the wolf's door. 

Silvers opened the door after the third knock. “Primal! I wasn't expecting you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Whatever the gorilla planned to say didn't quite make it past his lips. There was an uncomfortably large black widow crawling on the wolf's shoulder. Just seeing it made his own skin crawl. 

“Do you wanna come in?” The wolf stepped aside to allow the gorilla entrance. 

There were webs on the ceiling, in the corners of the room, and spun between the curtain rods and the walls. Gawd! Primal hated Silvers's house. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside and fought the urge to cringe. Forcing himself to remain calm, he said, “You make antidotes for spider venom, right? Do you think you could do the same thing with a plant-base toxin?”

The wolf shook his head. “No. You want a botanist for that.”

There was a wasp caught in one of the webs, struggling and buzzing madly to escape. Primal tried to ignore it. “I don't have access to a botanist, I have you.” Reaching a paw into his pocket, Primal pulled out the single Night Howler bulb Raymond brought back from Bunnyburrow. “Could you at least try?”

The wolf raised a brow, one ear cocked to the side, as if not quite sure how to interpret the request. “Does this have anything to do with your 'independent practice'?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Primal admitted. “But not in the way you might think. Ya know all those Savage outbreaks that keep happening? My employer thinks it might be toxin-based. A toxin from this plant. I was hoping you could make an antidote for it.”

Primal extended the Night Howler bulb to him. 

Silvers took it, looking at its dark color and onion-like finish. As a predator himself he also had an interest in seeing an end -or at the very least, a solution- to the savage crisis. But he was an entomologist, not a botanist. “I don't really work with plants, though... I don't know if I can actually do anything with it... But I can try.”

“Thanks.” Primal nodded. “And, my employer will -of course- compensate you for your time as well as pay an appropriate fee for the product itself.”

“And your employer has the funds to do all that?”

“Don't worry about my employer, but do your best to make an antidote.” The gorilla assured him. He turned to leave. Being inside Silvers's house for any stretch of time was just a little to much for him. Opening the door, he paused just long enough to turned back and inform the wolf, “By the way, you've got a black widow on your shoulder.”

And left.


	7. Give & Take, and Power Struggles

Bogo remembered escorting him out, but it was a busy night and the water buffalo couldn't take Lionheart's statement. He remembered delegating that task to another officer. Shoving the large feline predator into the backseat of a squad car and growling to another badge to take him in and book him. 

As fate would have it, the files declared the one who took his statement to be Hopps. 

She was the one to find the secret lab in the abandoned asylum. If it wasn't for her they wouldn't have gotten Lionheart or found the missing Mammals. It was her collar. It was only fair that she do the booking and take the credit and subsequent glory. But Bogo ran into two problems. 

One, Hopps was now gone and, thus, not available for him to question about her interview with the former mayor. 

Two, the statement she was supposed to have taken was missing from the files.

The police chief went through every single page, within every single folder, in every single box. Lionheart's statement wasn't misfiled, it just wasn't there. At all. There were references to it on other documents. Bogo knew Hopps actually took a statement. Valedictorian of her class at the academy, and a prodigy investigator who managed to find fifteen missing Mammals where his entire precent had failed, the buffalo knew Hopps would have both taken a very detailed statement, and filed it properly. 

First Clawhouser informs him the Cliffside's files that were seized as evidence were gone and now documents were missing from his own police files. That made one thing clear. There was a dirty cop in his building and Bogo did not like it. 

... 

“Read this for me.” Gazelle slid a small spiral notebook in front of Ashok's nose. “I haven't settled on a melody yet, so I'll still have to edit the flow a little. But can you make sure my rhymes make sense and my metaphors are clear and understandable.”

Sighing to himself, the tiger paused the episode of the show he was watching. They had the whole series recorded, he could catch up on it at any time. He took the notebook and began to read the lyrics to the new and politically charged song his paramour was writing for the Savage charity concert. 

The beginning started out pretty good. The metaphor was clear and obvious. The 'cruel thesis' was obviously the Taming Initiative, and inviting the audience to 'call with one voice' was asking all residence of Zootopia to unanimously vote against the initiative. But after that, the lyrics quickly degraded into a metaphor salad. “What's 'the dream'?”

“That in Zootopia, anyone can be anything, and predator and prey lived together in harmony.” She said as if this should have been obvious. 

“Okay.” He looked back at the paper. “Its a little weak in some places, but other than that, its pretty good.”

The pop diva looked at him as if this was the least helpful statement in the world. There was absolutely no constructive criticism what-so-ever. How did anyone ever expect creative types to improve if they didn't tell them what was good, bad, or could be improved upon in their creative works. “Okay... which parts were weak?”

“That bit about the stars and the moon towards the end didn't make much sense.” Ashok admitted. “I get that you're trying to tie it in with your beginning with blue skies and winds and stuff, but it just seems like a weak connection. Don't get me wrong, it does give a sense of continuity, but the metaphors are less clear.”

“Should I change it?” Gazelle asked. 

The tiger paused to think for a moment. “Write the melody to go with it. If it fits, keep it. If it doesn't then change it to something that flows better.”

“Great. Thanks.” 

She reached for the notebook, but Ashok took the opportunity to take her wrist and pull her down into his lap. Leaning his head down, the tiger nuzzled her elegantly pointed snout with affection. 

“This is nice.” He muttered against the side of her face. “You haven't asked me for advice on your songs in a while.”

“I haven't written a song that's supposed to mean something in a while.” She muttered back, nuzzling him in return. “These past few years I've just been pandering to our target demographic. Just look at 'Try Everything'. It catchy and fun and, I guess its kinda meaningful if you're an angsty teenager. But its not the kind of song that will survive the test of time. Its no John Lemming's 'Imagine All the Mammals' or Buffalo Springfield's 'For What Its Worth'.”

“Don McLamb's 'Zootopian Pie'.” Ashok nodded, understanding her point. “You wanna xerox this for me so I can put Rod and Park to work choreographing a routine?”

“Please.” She stood, notebook in hand. “I have Kiddis negotiating a venue already. I want this concert to happen as soon as possible. The sooner we can get the Savages the help they need, the sooner we can figure out what's causing these outbreaks, stop them, and return peace to the city again.”

“My superhero.” He smiled up at her, staying seated on the couch. “Guardian of Love and Justice.”

...

One quick yank and the adhesive bandage Primal put over Judy's stitches was ripped off. The gorilla doctor examined the bald skin and the scar running through it. The wound was healed and the stitches dissolved. The fur would grow back, but the scar would make sure that it never laid smooth again. 

“Alright, Ms. Hopps, I hereby give you a clean bill of health.” Primal announced. “You now have your doctor's permission to go running all over the city fighting evil and trying to get yourself killed again.” An amused smile. “But then again, you've already been doing that. I've been following your blog.”

“And I've been following your Twitcher.” The rabbit nodded, hopping from one leg to the other, testing for any walking pain. “And the Twitcher of the other doctor taking care of Ni- uh, the Savages. You didn't tell me you met with Gazelle. I caught her speech at last month's City Council meeting. She's on our side, ya know.”

“I don't have a 'side'.” The independent doctor who made house calls at odd hours and took cash informed her. “I help people who need help. Mobsters, drug victims, or cops. I fix Mammals, that's what I do.”

With a sardonic smile, Judy admitted, “Ya know, Primal, you just might be the only truly altruistic Mammal I've met since coming to this city. You're one of a kind.”

“Oh, I'm not the only altruistic Mammal in Zootopia.” The doctor shook his head. “You're here.”

At that statement, Judy looked down at her feet, examining the motives of her most recent actions. Starting her blog, attending City Council meetings, sharing or re-blogging crime statistics and quotes about predators and prey. (The city population might be ninety percent prey, but the city's police force was fifty percent predator. While crime was only ten percent predator.) All the things Judy had been filling her time with since getting her leg stitched up might seem like it was to bring Bellwether to justice, save the Savage victims, and protect the city. For selfless and altruistic reasons. But the truth of it was, all she could think about was Nick.

She was doing all of this for Nickolas Wilde. 

Because it was her fault he was in the state he was in now. If she hadn't shown up that afternoon, sobbing under the bridge about how much she needed him... If she never tried blackmailing him into helping her in the first place... If she never followed him into that ice cream shop her first day on the job... If it wasn't for her, Nick Wilde wouldn't be counted among the Savages right now. He would be out, working the streets across all of Zootopia's eco-districts. Selling popsicles and lumber. Making his daily two-hundred bucks and living his life care-free. 

If it wasn't for her.

It seemed like, from the moment Judy Hopps arrived in Zootopia, fate arranged for it to be her mission to ruin his life. Nick was a mindless beast locked in a hospital because of her. That was why she was so determined to reveal the truth, take down Bellwether, and cure the Savages. 

Noble goals, for sure. But her motives were anything but altruistic. 

Primal's comment made her uncomfortable, so the rabbit changed the subject. “Do you think Gazelle's plan will work? Raise enough money to move the Savages out of a city funded hospital and into a private facility. I mean, I know she's popular. I grew up a little over two-hundred miles from here where we're not surrounded by LED billboards of her face all the time and I still bought her music. But is she popular enough to raise enough money to buy them off?”

“That is an excellent question.” Nodded the gorilla doctor. “But ultimately an unimportant one.”

Judy gave stared at him in incomprehension. 

“Come on, Ms. Hopps, you're supposed to be the investigative genius who solved the Missing Mammals case. Do you really think Bellwether is going to let someone -anyone- just take control of the Savages away from her?”

...

“Oh, sweetheart, of course I'm on board with the idea!” Bellwether gushed into the phone's receiver. 

Imagine her surprise when none other than Gazelle's manager called her to organize a charity concert for Savage Research. It was a bold more by the pop diva and Dawn had to admit that she didn't exactly see it coming. But, then again, Gazelle had been a bleeding heart advocate for the preds and peace between Mammals since before her initiative was proposed. So, of course the musical idol would continue to stick her snout in. In retrospect, Bellwether should have expectd something like this. 

“I wanna help those poor Mammals just as much as anyone!” Bellwether assured Kiddis over the phone. “Whatever it takes to make our city safe again. Alright. Good talking with you, bye-bye.”

She hung up and slumped back in her chair, glaring at her phone. 

They could not let some hippy upstart with a soft heart and a messiah complex take control of the Savages away from them. If that happened, then it wouldn't be long before some clever little researcher realized it was a drug in their system, not a product of predators' natural biology. If that happened, Bellwether and her team were through. 

Why did Gazelle even care so much? Because she worked closely with predators? Just how close was the popstar goddess with her backup dancers? Was Gazelle a predaphile? That didn't matter. Dawn grinned as an idea occurred to her. At this charity concert, the lanky little prey songstress would be on stage, on public display, surrounded by four large predators. 

Dawn grabbed her phone and called Doug. 

“Hi. Yeah, its me.” She said. “Listen, is the lab up and running? Can you start making more ammunition? I have a new target in mind.”


	8. The Concert Tragedy

Surprisingly, there was a surplus of down-time when incarcerated. Meals were scheduled, mandatory labor or skill classes were scheduled, and time out in the yard was scheduled. But in between those three things, there was a great deal of empty space. There were approximately fourteen waking hours in a day and the prison managed to only fill about nine of them. That meant that Leodore Lionheart, former mayor of Zootopia had an abundance of time to fill doing absolutely nothing of any great importance. 

So, he was reading last month's issue of Fancy Cat magazine when a prison guard rapped her nightstick on the bars of his cell door, startling him to attention. 

“Lionheart, you've got a visitor.” The sow informed him blandly. 

Thinking it was just another news caster coming to charm another interview out of him and continue to milk the Cliffside story for just a bit longer before it got to old, the former mayor took his time. Folding back the cover of his magazine so that he didn't lose his place and sliding the periodical under his pillow so that his cell mate didn't see it lying out and decide to use it as toilet paper. That done, he followed the sow guard out of his cell, down the corridor and, to a private visitor room.

It was not a reporter waiting there for him. 

“Chief Bogo?” The lion blinked at the water buffalo. 

“I was hoping we could talk.” The police chief informed him without preamble. Then, nodding to the guard whom had escorted Lionheart, “Thank you, Swinton. I'll call if I need anything else.”

The sow nodded and left, closing -and locking- the door behind her. 

Bogo sat down and motioned for Lionheart to do the same. 

“I didn't think I was going to see you until my trial.” The lion confessed. “To what do I owe this visit?”

There was a beat of silence between them. As Chief of Police and Mayor of Zootopia, both males worked together on a semi-regular basis. They were relatively familiar -for work colleagues. But they were not friends. Their interactions were always professional, never social. But for some reason, Bogo was finding it difficult to remain professional and detached in regards to this case. Maybe it was because he was still feeling a little bit of residual survivor's guilt over Hopps' death, or perhaps it was because of the unprofessional -bordering on conspiratory - handling or mishandling of ZPD files pertaining to the case. But, whatever the reason, Chief Bogo found himself wanting to level with the former mayor as if they might have been friends.

Because -in a peripheral way- Lionheart was also a victim of the Savage epidemic. 

“The Savages.” Bogo began awkwardly. “You were holding them at Cliffside because you were trying to help them... right?”

“I said as much in my statement to the bunny officer from the Inclusion Initiative. Hopps, I think was her name.” Lionheart informed the water buffalo. 

“Officer Judy Hopps is dead.” He informed the former mayor, deadpan. “She was killed in the line of duty by another predator whom had gone Savage. I can't ask her.”

Lionheart looked taken aback for a moment. He hadn't heard about Hopps' death? Did they not get the news here? Did he just not watch it in his captivity? The lion cleared his throat. “My statement should still be in the file.”

“The statement is missing.” Bogo announced, again, deadpan. “Not only is your statement from that night missing, but all of your files on the Savages that were confiscated that night have also gone missing. Someone doesn't want us looking to deeply into these Savage outbreaks. I want to know why. You were the first to know about them, that makes you my best possible informant.”

“That's a sad commentary on the situation right there.” The former mayor shook his head. “I never really understood to much about the Savage outbreaks to being with. That's why I was trying to keep it a secret. Madge Honey Badger couldn't tell me why they were going Savage, and without knowing why, we had no way of curing them or stopping new ones from turning. I didn't know what to do. The most I could do was keep them confined and comfortable so that they wouldn't hurt anyone or themselves.”

“Because you're such a saint.” Bogo didn't often give into sarcastic, or passive aggressively scathing remarks, but that deserved one. “It didn't have anything at all to do with the fact that you, yourself are a predator, and you didn't want public opinion turning on you. You wanted to be re-elected for another term.”

“Don't take that tone with me, Bogo. I was trying to help.” Lionheart snapped. “My entire term in office I've been trying to improve the quality of life for all residents of Zootopia and promote equality between the species. Did you think my Inclusion Initiative was just pandering to voters? Don't forget, I originally ran on a liberal platform. I care about Mammals. What I did with the Savages might have been the wrong thing to do, but I did it with noble intensions. I thought I was helping.”

The buffalo exhaled through his nostrils. Sending a soft jet of warm air to fog the metal table between them. He didn't come here to argue with the former mayor. Taking a deep breath, Bogo forced himself to return to the topic at hand. “Then help me now. You were keeping the Savages secret for months. But how did you learn about them? How did it start? And why would someone be trying to cover it up? Please... Leodore.”

“We on a first name basis now, Westley?”

Bogo just exhaled again, glaring at the lion. “Please just answer the question. What possible motive would a Mammal have for impeding the Savage investigation?”

Lionheart leaned back in the uncomfortable metal chair. “Well, the answer to that should be obvious. Whoever gains from the Savage outbreaks.”

“Nobody gains from the Savage outbreaks.” The buffalo argued back. “Otherwise law-abiding and upstanding citizens are attacking their neighbors, Mammals are afraid to leave their homes, our city is being torn apart by fear, blame, and hatred. Things are on their way to anarchy on my streets!”

To all of that, the lion only gave a gentle smile as if he were a teacher leading a student to a difficult answer. “And out of all that chaos, who seems to be rising above the din to take control?” 

Bogo was silent for one... two... three beats. 

Then he stood suddenly, an uncomfortable idea forming in his head. 

“I have to go.” He banged on the locked door three times to let the guard -Swinton- know he was ready to leave. “We're done here.”

…

Bellwether brought a different case for the gun. Black with silver hardware. It looked like the kind of hard case musicians carried their sound equipment in. She watched Doug carefully pack the components away while Woolter was busy putting the finishing touches on their ammunition. 

“You'll sneak the gun in with the rest of the band's equipment.” She explained as the boys worked around her. “I've already arranged for you to get in as one of the technical staff. There's a maintenance catwalk above the stage for servicing the lights, that's where you'll take the shot from.”

“Do you think I don't know how to set up a shot?” Doug paused in packing away his weapon to turn around and glare at her. “Don't patronize me, Dawn. I'm not some green little lamb who's never seen combat before.”

“Of course, of course. Rangers lead the way.” Her words might have been placating if it weren't for her patronizing tone. “Any way, as a show of solidarity and to keep up appearances, I'm going to give a little speech about the charitable benefits of the concert and introduce Gazelle -I'm sort of taking the place of their 'hype Mammal'. Wait until third or fourth song before you shoot. I want to be far from the stage before the tiger goes Savage.”

“Obviously.” Doug snorted.

Woolter came over with the small marble sized blue pellet. Almost visually indistinguishable from a mundane little blueberry. He passed it to Doug whom loaded it into the chamber before packing the final component away. “Alright.” He said. “Lets crash a hippy-dippy concert.”

…

The day of the concert finally rolled around.

Gazelle sat backstage, vocalizing and warming up her instrument while a dedicated team of cosmologists applied highlights, low lights, and glitter dust. 

“I think its really great, what you're doing.” The artist who was applying her eyeshadow commended. She was a young coyote with bleach blond fur and pink-tipped ears. “I want you to know -after my rent and utilities are paid- the rest of what I get from this gig is going into your Research fund.”

“That's very selfless of you.” The pop-diva commented. 

“Actually, its remarkably self-serving.” The coyote remarked as she dusted on a bit of setting powder, blowing gently to clear away the excess. “I'm a predator and predators are going Savage. Its safe to say that I have a vested interest in this benefit. A lot of us have a vested interest in this concert.”

Gazelle fluttered her eyelids to make sure no loose powder would fall into her eyes during the performance. “You mean 'us' as in Mammals who live in Zootopia, right?”

The coyote smiled and started packing away her brushes. “Uh, no. 'Us' as in predators.”

“I don't like that.” Gazelle shook her head -irritating the heck out of the stylist working with her main. “Dividing society into groups, 'us' versus 'them', predator versus prey. That's exactly the sort of thinking that this concert is being put on to stop. We're all Mammals.”

Shaking her head, the coyote smiled a disbelieving smile. “I feel sorry for whoever your lover is. It must be hard to know that they have to share your love with the rest of the world.”

“The world needs more love in it.” The pop dive stated flatly. As if it was a little known fact that deserved more attention. 

There was a knock on the dressing room door. Without waiting for an answer, Ashok stuck his head in. “Bellwether's announcing you now. I don't know how long her speech is gonna be, but we'll be on soon.”

“Thank you.” Gazelle would have nodded, except she really needed to let her stylist do her work and do-up her main into something rakish that would fit with the rest of her makeup and costume. 

Ashok left and stood just off stage next to Park, Rajesh, and Rod to watch the mayor's speech. 

“...because our city is a special city. There's no other place on Earth like Zootopia, and I am dedicated to the continued safety and security of everyone who lives here. Together with the help of competent leaders and community minded citizens like Gazelle, we can make Zootopia great again!” The diminuative sheep thrust her fist up into the air to punctuate this statement and the crowd roared with approval. “But you're not here to listen to me prattle on. You're here to hear some music! Lets make so noise!” 

Gazelle trotted up to the four tigers just as Bellwether exited from the opposite side of the stage and the opening cords of 'Try Everything' began to play. “I'm in time, right?” She asked breathless. “I had to give up on my hair. How terrible is it?”

“Gurl, I don't know what you're worried about.” Rod dissuaded her concerns with a wave of the wrist. “You look so pretty.”

“Alright, well, they can't extend that intro much longer.” Ashok cut in. “Lets get out there and do what all these people paid to see us do.”

…

The concert was a bit of a rush to organize. As such, it was a bit shorter than some of Gazelle's other performances in the past. Only about six songs. Opening with 'Try Everything', Gazelle's latest hit and her currently best selling single. Then it moved into some of her older songs, one from her first album, the one from her viral video that hooked her stardom, then her two most popular songs under 'Try Everything'. The sixth and final song was the new one. The one she wrote specifically for this event. 

The lights dimmed. A slow violin intro began to play, picking up tempo. A single spotlight illuminated Gazelle who began, more as spoken word rather than lyrical verse. “This cruel thesis, that has forgotten empathy. Rise up together, calling now with one voice.”

Then the slow violin sped into an upbeat pop melody. Four more spotlights illuminated four tigers who began dancing backup as Gazelle launched into the song. 

“Blue skies, and beckoning winds  
“Are trying to open the door to your heart.”

Gazelle turned to Ashok, one arm outstretched to the tiger. Ashok extended his own paw to her and the two circled each other without ever actually touching. 

“You're gazing at me, as if you cannot see  
“You just stand there smiling vacantly.  
“Your eyes, hold such innocents,  
“You're blind to the fate that will soon come to pass.  
“But summoning you-”

After several turns, Gazelle finally took the tiger's paw in her hoof.

“-with a touch like a sigh,  
“You seek it without knowing why.”

Ashok tried to wrap her in a hug.

“Some day you will be awakened,  
And your eyes will finally see.”

Gazelle twirled out of the hug. Still holding Ashok's paw, she lead him halfway across the stage. 

“These hooves are just waiting to guide you,  
“The future will soon set you free.”

The lights switched their focus, drawing attention to the other three tigers as Gazelle launched into the chorus. 

“This cruel thesis of spiteful partisan litany,  
“Will subvert from the window of our destiny.  
“White hot pathos and desecrated symphony.  
“Danger to this, don't betray our values!  
“Come now reach out, you must embrace reality.  
“Rise up together, calling now with one voice.”

The lights shifted again, once more placing the focus on Gazelle and Ashok. This time it was the tiger leading her across the stage. Gazelle was still the vocals, but the dance and pantomime seemed to invoke the idea that it was now the predator's words that were being sung. 

“You've slept, forever so long.  
“Embraced and secure, cradled with care.  
“The horn sounds an approach,  
“With an echoing cry.  
“It tells you to leave your fears behind. “

Back at center stage now, Gazelle pulled on his arm, stoping the motion of their dance and pulling Ashok back to her. The two embraced with a level of intimacy never shown between predator and prey in polite society. The image alone was provocative. 

“The stars and the moon, are shining above,  
“They wish to show you how fragile you are.  
“A frail treat of flight, in its silvery light,  
“Our fate is not one we can fight!”

The music made it sound like Gazelle was supposed to hold that note a bit longer. But Ashok leaned in and kissed her. Right there on stage. In front of everyone. Hundreds of spectators and dozens of cameras recording the an unheard of moment breaking a social taboo that was so unspeakable that no one even alluded to it in polite conversation. Several members of the audience gasped. Some turning to their friends and asking, “Is that part of the act, or are they really doing that?”

Then the other three tigers came up and pulled the star-crossed lovers apart. Gazelle continued singing, picking up right where she left off with barely a seem. As if everything was perfectly planned and meant to be that way. Don't worry folks, its all part of the show.

“Some day I hope you we'll be reconciled, that is what's destined to be.  
“Perhaps we'll break that hostile thesis and then we will finally be free!”

Gazelle and Ashok broke free of the paws holding them and ran back to each other. The other three once again took center stage and she dove right back into the chorus. 

“This cruel thesis of spiteful partisan mockery,  
“Will bring with it the sorrow of futility.  
“Hold on tightly, do not lose vitality.  
“You must wake up, for now your fears are history.  
“Come now, reach out. You must embrace Mammals, see?  
“Rise up together, calling now with one voice.”

As Park, Raj, and Rod danced their routine to the chorus, Rod missed his mark. Staggering, just a bit off at first, one hand going to the back of his neck, as if swatting a mosquito. Gazelle looked to make sure he was okay. He looked a little drunk. But the show must go on.

“Love is the thread of the story that's woven-”

Then everything went sideways. 

Rodrigo's staggers degraded quickly and he collapsed to all fours. But he didn't pass out. No. He wasn't unconscious. The tiger was on all fours, back arched, fur standing up, lips parted, teeth barred. Feral. Savage. Rodrigo had gone Savage. Somehow. Right in the middle of a show. Surrounded by three other predators making him hostile. On stage with a prey making him hungry. 

“Rod, what...” The mike Gazelle was wearing, clipped to her ear and reaching across her cheek to her mouth caught every word, making sure the audience heard everything. “What's wrong?” 

But Rodrigo didn't answer. His brain was suddenly incapable of telling his mouth to form words, never mind string them together into complete sentences. 

Gazelle took a step towards him. 

But Ashok pulled her back, placing himself between his lover and the other tiger. “He's gone Savage!”

“No. Not, Rod. He wouldn't...” But then she trailed off. Remembering that the whole reason for this concert was because no one knew what was causing predators to go Savage. Until they learned what was causing the outbreaks, there was no reason to just assume you're friends or lovers were immune. Then she realized that her mic was still working and anything she said was broadcast over the entire stadium. “Ashok, I trust you.”

The Savage tiger leapt at Gazelle, but Ashok was in the way. He impacted the Savage's chest with a double fisted punch, knocking the aggressive tiger back mid-jump. Ashok succeeded in keeping the hostile predator away from her, but now the beast's attention was focused on him, and it was not happy. The tiger turned his attack to the other male. Claws out, bringing both paws down on Ashok's chest, carving deep gashes that stained the fur crimson. 

“No!” Gazelle screamed, seeing her lover take the attack that was meant for her. She didn't think, she just acted on impulse. Bending her head down and charging forward, she rammed the Savage with her horns, throwing him off the other tiger. “Ashok, are you okay!?”

But now she was directly in front of the Savage again.

He pounced on her. Claws ripping through the sequined top of her costume and flesh beneath it. Slashing her with four bloody diagonal lines from the center of the chest, across her belly, and down the right leg. The pop idol screamed in pain, her leg giving out on her, and Gazelle collapsed on top of Ashok. 

Realizing that they were both down and vulnerable, Ashok grabbed his lover and rolled so that he was still shielding her from their attacker. Looking up, he saw Rajesh and Park, starring dumb-struck, paralyzed by the shock of what was happening right before their eyes. “Guys!” He called to them. “Guys! Get 'Zelle out of here! Raj! Bhaee! Park! Get your tails over here and help her!”

Their faces were so close together, his and Gazelle's that Ashok's snout was almost pressed up against her mic. Every word he shouted reverberated around the stadium. It was that, the sheer volume and impact of his deep tiger baritone that shocked the other two out of their horrified haze and into action. The Savage tiger brought another paw down, this one slashing across Ashok's back just as Park and Rajesh arrived to help. 

Park kicked Rod off of Ashok long enough for he and Rajesh to pull Gazelle out from under him. 

“No, I don't want to leave you!” The pop diva wailed, gripping Ashok's paw with her hoof. 

“I'll be right behind you sweetheart.” He promised. “But you're losing blood.” 

“So are you!” She cried, tears streaming down her face from equal parts emotional turmoil and physical pain. She fought against Rajesh and Park trying to pull her away from her lover. “Ashok! Wait! You can't leave Ashok!”

The Savage tiger tried to follow the prey. The scent of her blood making her seem all the more appetizing. But Park kicked him in the face and sent the hostile predator staggering backwards. Ashok forced himself back to his feet and jumped on Rod in an effort to keep him away from the other two retreating with his lover. But Ashok was already weak from blood loss and Savage-Rod threw him off easily. He couldn't get to the prey anymore. But a weakened and defenseless rival was just as good. 

Turning around, the Savage tiger jumped on Ashok, tearing into him again, holding him down with his claws and bringing his jaws to bite into his neck. First the side where there jugular vein was, then the front to rip out the throat. Ashok Patel died on stage almost instantly. 

Right in front of half the city. 

A cry of anguish, abject grief and horror, was heard from Gazelle's mic. She was no longer in view, somewhere off stage, but still, she saw her lover's death. Words failed her. She couldn't even cry his name or form the single syllable 'no'. But she screamed a primal, roar of pain. The sound of a creature who's heart was torn in two. 

That was what was heard over the mic. 

But Rajesh didn't have a mic. If he did, the audience would have heard him shout, “You killed my brother! You bastard! I kill you!”

The other tiger ran back on stage and threw himself at the Savage, knocking him off the prone body that was formerly Ashok. 

That, was when the police finally showed up. 

It took three darts of tranquilizer to finally put Rodrigo down. When he finally stopped moving, they had to cuff Rajesh before they could pull him off the unconscious Savage. “Let me go!” He snarled at the uniformed officers holding him. “He killed my brother! He killed Ashok! Let me go!”

“Cool it, cub.” Commanded the officer that was holding him. A lion. The name tag below his badge identified hm as 'Delgato'. “Don't make me tranq you too.”

Another officer, another tiger this time, came up beside Delgato. He was talking on his radio but ended that call just as he reached the other cats. “Paramedics are on their way. Gazelle looks pretty bad but if they can get her to Zootopia General in time she'll live.” He then looked at Rajesh. “This one Savage too?”

“No. Just angry.” The lion officer shook his head. “Apparently, the one who got killed was his brother. Can you try and calm him down, tiger-to-tiger?” He pushed Rajesh toward the other cat. “Thanks, Fangmeyer.”

“Gosh, this is a real shame.” Fangmeyer commented, casting his eyes around, taking in the blood soaked stage and shocked horrified spectators being herded out of the stadium. “I think Clawhouser was supposed to be here tonight. Took the night off and everything.”

“He's gonna be heart-broken.” Delgato muttered.

“A lot of Mammals are.” Fangmeyer agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1:  
> Gazelle's song is actually an altered version of the English translation of the lyrics to “Cruel Angel's Thesis”, the opening theme song of Neon Genesis Evangelion. That is the melody I imagined while I was writing that scene. If you'd like to hear it for yourself, you can search either “Cruel Angel Thesis” or “Eva OP” on YouTube and get over a million hits. It is one of the most famous songs in all of the greater anime/manga fandom and has a hundred different fan covers on every instrument imaginable.)
> 
> 2:  
> The final verse of before Gazelle got cut off was going to go like this:  
>  _“Love is the thread of the story that's woven_  
>  “The future, and present, and past.  
> “I may not ever ascend to Nirvana, but I know my love with still last.  
> “This cruel thesis of spiteful partisan litany  
> “Will subvert from the window of our destiny.  
> “White hot pathos and desecrated symphony.  
> “Danger to us. Don't betray the dream.”


	9. As the World Falls Down

Bogo heard the news over his CB radio during the drive back from the penitentiary. So he was expecting a certain level of upset and unrest upon returning to Precent One. However, nothing could have prepared him for the chaos that met him upon pulling up to the parking lot -never mind walking through the doors. 

A crowd of Mammals surrounded the building. Some of them looking like they legitimately needed to get inside to report some grievance to the police. Others held protest signs and were calling for a return of the death penalty and death to all Savage predators -as if the police had any control over that.

Pushing his way through the throng of emotionally charged and tense citizens, Bogo finally made it through the precent doors and into the building proper. 

There was just more chaos inside. 

Muttonson was at the reception desk, juggling multiple phone calls while trying to sooth Mammals at the desk demanding what was going on, if they city was safe, if they were safe, what could be done? 

Clawhouser was there with her. Still in his civies. A bedazzled denim vest thrown over a Gazelle concert t-shirt and acid-wash jeans. Tonight was his night off, Bogo had signed the time off request himself. But after the tragedy at the concert, instead of going home to process and/or cry over the loss of his idol, he came right back to work to help with the backlash -right back in his old position (where he belonged, although Bogo would not say that any where with the hearing of Mammal Resources).

MR transferred Clawhouser because he was a predator and they thought it might make visitors uncomfortable for him to be the first thing they saw when walking into a police station -a place Mammals were supposed to go for safety and protection. But seeing Clawhouser back at the desk, working right alongside Muttonson, predator and prey working together, it actually brought Bogo more comfort than he was expecting. It was like seeing the city's core values and founding ideals come to life. 

That was at least, until Bogo got closer and saw that Muttonson had her ka-bar knife out in the open, strapped to her hip and was shooting suspicious glances at the cheetah whenever his tasks at the desk caused him to drift to close to her. 

“What's the situation?” The chief asked, the moment he was close enough to be heard over the din. 

“The city's gone nuts!” Clawhouser announced. On closer inspection, his eyes looked puffy and red around the edges, as if he'd been crying, or at the very least, wanted to cry very hard but was holding it in. “One of Gazelle's-” he choked.

“One of Gazelle's back-up dancers went Savage mid-performance and attacked her.” Muttonson took over the explanation for him. “We've got one dead and two injured. Predators are going crazy all over the city!”

“Its not just predators, sir!” Clawhouser managed to get himself back under control to recount the past few hours events. “Prey type Mammals have been attacking random predators on the streets, throwing around blame and species slurs along with hooves and claws. We've got a full-blown Species War on our paws, sir!”

“Don't say that!” Bogo snapped. The last thing he needed, the last thing the city needed, was someone overhearing the words 'Species War' and blasting it all over the media. Zoobook, Twitcher, Shutterbug, and the actual news. Any one of them announces there's a Species War going on and the city would break in two. “I do not want to hear anyone in this precent utter those words. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir!” Both Muttonson and Clawhouser nodded their understanding. 

“Who were the first responders to the concert call?” Bogo asked, pinching the bridge of his snout in an attempt to stave off an on-coming stress headache. 

“Delgato and Fangmeyer, sir.” Clawhouser supplied promptly. “I saw them at the concert. I was- I was in the floor seats when- when it happened.”

The rotund cheetah looked like he was about to cry and water buffalo thought about offering a comforting hoof for a moment before remembering that they were both professionals and emotional displays and moments of weakness were supposed to take place in the informal safety of his office. As Chief of Police, he had to appear calm and detached from his subordinates. 

“Where are they now?” He asked instead. 

It was Muttonson who cut in with the answers this time. “Delgato rushed the Savage tiger to the quarantined wing of Zootopia General -wanted to get him there before the tranquilizers wore off. Fangmeyer's downstairs in one of the interrogation rooms. He brought in one of the other back-up dancers about two hours ago.”

“He Savage too?” Bogo asked, not understanding why Fangmeyer would confine an otherwise innocent witness to an interrogation room. Or why he would split up from his partner for that matter. After what happened to Hopps, the buffalo didn't want to lose any more officers because they had to face down a vicious and deadly predator all alone. 

“No, sir.” Clawhouser was quick to assure his Chief. “The one that was brought in was Raj, and he's brothers with Ash -that the one that- that- -was killed. Raj and Ash are brothers -I have the Gazelle fan-bible at home- he's probably just distraught over what happened. Fangmeyer probably just put him down there to cool off. He wasn't booked. I don't think he was booked. I donno. They got here before me. Traffic. Maggie, Raj wasn't booked, was he?”

The ewe shot him a dark look of irritation. “I don't know and we are so backed up tonight. There is no possible was I can look that up on the computer. He was wearing cuffs when Fangmeyer brought him in. That is the full extent of my knowledge.” 

Bogo exhaled in irritation at their non-constructive banter. “So, Delgato and Fangmeyer split up. With a Savage involved.”

“Sir?” Both asked, not quite understanding why he seemed upset by this information. 

“I don't want a repeat of what happened to Hopps!” The Chief snarled, glaring at both of them. “Get on the radio and make sure every damn officer on this force knows not to split up from their partner when a Savage is involved! I'm not losing any more cops to this epidemic.”

“But, sir,” Muttonson objected, “everyone's spread so thin right now. Sticking to the buddy system will just make things more difficult to-”

“No more dead officers!” Bogo roared. “No more deaths at all. Two Mammals have been killed now by these Savages. One cop and one civilian. No one else dies on my watch. Got it?”

Muttonson brushed a lock of fleecy wool behind her ear, one eyebrow raised when she said, “Chief, I understand your feelings. But don't you think it will just raise the chances of another Mammal dying by negligence if officers can't divide themselves to cover more ground?”

“No more dead cops!” He repeated. “Now I just have to drop off a few things in my office and them I'm gonna hit the streets with everyone else. Clawhouser, you have a uniform in your locker?”

“Uh, yes, sir.”

“Then suit up.” The Chief commanded. “You're partnering with me tonight. Its all hooves -and paws- on deck.”

“Me? Hitting the streets, sir?” The hefty cheetah blinked at his commander. He hadn't actively patrolled the streets in years. The most action Clawhouser saw recently was when Hopps rolled in a burglar trapped in the hole of a novelty doughnut. But, the Chief did have a point. Maybe if Hopps hadn't been alone she wouldn't have been killed. “Yes, sir. I'll be ready as soon as possible, sir.”

Bogo nodded and was about to walk away when Muttonson stopped him. 

“Sir, are you sure that's safe?” She asked, looking genuinely concerned. “Going out in this chaos with a predator in the car with you?”

She said this while standing literally right next to Clawhouser, with apparently no thought or regard for the cheetah's feelings. At her question, his round cherub-like face fell. For a moment, it was like Mammal Resources told him all over again that he was unfit for the receptionist desk because he was a predator. Law-abiding upstanding Mammals couldn't trust predators, apparently. He was inherently unsafe to be around simply because of the species he was born from. 

Releasing another exhale of frustration, Bogo fixed her with a hard glare. “Officer Benjamin Clawhouser is one of the finest members of this precent. He's been on the force for years and I have the utmost trust in him and his abilities as a capable and dedicated officer of the law.”

If he wasn't covered in a layer of bright yellow fur, the cheetah might have flushed at his flattering words. In all of his six years on the force, Chief Bogo had never flattered him with such high praise. “S-sir... thank you. I had no idea you felt so-”

“Shouldn't you be changing into uniform!” The buffalo snarled. 

“Yes, sir! Right away!” The cheetah dashed off comply with his commander's orders. 

Once Clawhouser was out of earshot, Bogo rounded on the ewe. “And, Muttonson, I understand you're not a cop and sometimes don't understand how things are down around here. So let me tell you, the next time you have disparaging remarks about one of my officers you feel the need to share, you will register your grievances with me in private, instead of grand standing them in a public forum. In times of crisis like this, its twice as important to maintain a unified front. Mammals need to feel they can trust us and they can't do that if it looks like we can't trust each other.” He gestured to the knife at her hip. “Conceal that. We'll discuss whether or not you have the appropriate permits later.”

“Sorry, sir.” She untucked her blouse and let the fabric drape over the knife. Then added, almost indignantly, “I have a concealed weapon permit.”

He nodded and walked away. 

In his office, Bogo took out his mini-tape recorder. He might be dating himself a little, but Bogo still found it easier to use the old fashioned mini-cassette recorder to record his interviews rather than converting to using digital recorders. He just didn't quite understand MP files. Plus, the only digital recorder he had was on his phone and something seemed very unprofessional about using his person cell phone to record interrogations. 

Absentmindedly, the Chief wondered if Hopps kept any sort of recording devices. None were found at the scene of her death. Nothing was found at the scene of her death. Just her plastic carrot novelty pen. But then, she wasn't even found at the scene -and it bothered him that they still hadn't found the body. What was going on in his city?

Bogo rewound the tape a bit and pressed play. 

“Well, the answer to that should be obvious. Whoever gains from the Savage outbreaks.”

“Nobody gains from the Savage outbreaks.” 

He stopped the playback and took out the tape, putting the interview away in a locked drawer. Pulling out a fresh blank tape, he loaded it in the recorder. 

Walking out of his office and back into the fray, Bogo had to seriously wonder, who could ever benefit from this chaos and anarchy?

Waiting until the buffalo and the cheetah were out of the building, Muttonson took out her phone and quickly hammered out a text.

…

Dawn Bellwether changed into a long nightgown, calm and relaxed as a Mammal could be. You'd think she wasn't even aware of the turmoil in the city beyond her house's fence, or the police guard parked outside her house for protection. She was the picture of serenity as she climbed into bed.

Judy's presumed death gave her the justification to propose the Taming Initiative. But the attack on Gazelle would give the city the push that was needed to pass it into law. Once the initiative passed, her control of the city would be almost complete. 

In the morning she'd work on a new list of targets for Doug. Bellwether didn't want to lose any momentum now. If Woolter and Jesse could produce the ammo fast enough, she wanted to step up their game to a new Savage attack a day. Really push the fear and hysteria. After all, the mob was always easier to control when it was hysterical. No one understood the heard mentality better than a sheep. 

Just as the ewe was about to drift off to sleep, she got a text from her agent in the ZPD. 'Bo on beat w/ pred'. Smiling to herself, she forwarded the text to Doug. He would know what to do. Lionheart never did get Bogo in his pocket and neither had Bellwether. They'd have to either convert him or else take him out eventually. No time like the present.

…

The news broadcast played in the background as Judy slipped on a black hoodie over a pair of tight-fitting yoga pants and tank top. It wasn't her ideal outfit for hitting the streets, but it allowed for free and easy movement while the hood would hide her ears and -maybe- obscure her identity a little. She was still supposed to be dead, after all. 

Fru-fru watched her suit up, a nervous purse to her lips as she nursed Little J. 

“Are you sure you wanna go out in this?” The shrew waved her free paw to indicate the riot on TV. Mammals vandalizing store fronts, throwing bricks through windows, spraying 'Preds go Home' over doors and cars, prey attacking predators for no other reason than they were predators. “Its chaos out there. You could get hurt!”

“Anyone could get hurt out there.” Judy agreed. “That why I have to go. I have the training that just might prevent innocent Mammals from getting hurt. This is my city and I failed it. I've gotta do what I can to reduce the collateral.”

Shifting Little J from one arm to the other, Fru-fru rocker her baby to keep him calm while she rose to higher levels of anxiety. “This isn't some comic book, Judy. You're not Maskedbat or Supermarmoset, and... and this isn't even your city! You grew up on a far over two hundred miles from here. You haven't even lived in Zootopia for a year yet! This isn't your city and it isn't your fight!” 

Judy pulled the hood's drawstring just enough to make it less likely to be thrown back from her face should she have to move in an odd way. “You are half-right, Fru. I didn't grow up here. But this is where I chose to live. Zootopia is my home and these riots are all my fault for not exposing Bellwether sooner. I have to try and contain the damage.”

And without waiting for her first to offer another argument to the contrary, Judy left. Not through the door, she was pretty sure Kevin, Raymond, or Koslov would have stopped her if she tried. No, in classic comic book fashion, she went out the window. But she did pause on the sill to add one more thing. 

“Oh. By the way, I was never a big fan of the Justice Pack. When I was a kit I watched Pretty Guardian Lunar Rabbit.”

And with that she was gone, out into the night. Dashing across the snowy grounds and over the property wall. Ready to start fighting evil by moonlight. 

…

The zebra's snout was pressed to the hood of the car was his hooves were cuffed behind his back. “Hey, man, it wasn't me! This is discrimination!”

“No. Discrimination was when you threw a trashcan at the entrance to that tenement building.” Bogo informed him, pulling on the zebra's cuffed hooves, hoisting the Mammal upright and walking him around the side of the squad car to push him in the back seat. 

“Man, who cares about some pred building?” 

“I care.” Bogo slammed the door in his face and came back around to the driver's seat. 

Clawhouser was in the passenger seat, just finishing up a call to dispatch. He put the radio down, casting a hopeless glance at his superior. “Holding cells are full in precent one though four, and nine, twelve, and sixteen. They've started sending their arrests to other stations. Where do you wanna take him? Six says they've got space -if you wanna make the drive to Tundra Town.”

Bogo suppressed a groan. They were currently smack dab in the middle of the Downtown district. To get to Tundra Town, they'd have to pass through Savanah Central, and Sahara Square before passing through the wall to Tundra Town. The water bufflao exhaled through is nostrils. “Call it in. Let them know we'll probably end up picking up a few more on the way.”

He shifted the cruiser back into gear and took off down the streets. 

The streets that were a mad house. You'd think the mayor of even the Prime Minister had just been assassinated with how hysterical and just plain crazy Mammals were acting. Then again, Gazelle had sort of been an unofficial ambassador between prey and predator type Mammals. That had been the single consistent and unifying characteristic of her image from her very first viral video. Prey working together with predators to create something wonderful. She was like the personification of the very soul of the city. The fact that she was attacked by one of her tigers, a Mammal she worked closely with on a daily basis. 

It was a betrayal that hit hard and showed the city that they really couldn't even trust their own friends. 

What was the world coming to?

They made it all the way to Sahara Square without incident. 

Then a jackal was thrown across the hood of the cruiser and Bogo had to break hard to keep from running him -or the two camels chasing him- over. “Mother freaking hell!”

Both buffalo and cheetah climbed out of the car and ran to the trio just in time to pull the two camels off of the jackal before they could bludgeon him any more with their hooves. 

“What on Minos' green Earth is going on here!?” Bogo roared. 

The camels struggled in the police hold. 

Climbing back to his feet, the jackal was the first one to recover. “I was on my way home and these two attacked me.”

“That's a lie! You don't live around here!” One of the camels shouted at the canid. “We hear on the news that Gazelle's been attacked and then this suspicious pred starts prowling around our neighborhood at night. We have to protect our homes!”

“No, we have to protect your homes.” Bogo snarled at them. He was quickly finding that he had no patience for these kinds of disputes. The buffalo turned his attention to the jackal. “And you, do you live in this neighborhood?”

“No.” The jackal readily cooperated, pulling out his wallet and passing his over his ID. “I usually take a different rout home. But all the main streets are full of protesters. I wanted to avoid the crowds, so I cut through here.” 

Bogo sighed and passed the ID card back to the jackal. He then turned his attention back to the two camels. “You two live around here?”

“Yes.” They nodded. 

Back to the jackal. “Do you want to press charges?”

“No.” The predator shook his head. 

The buffalo nodded. “Clawhouser, release them. You two are going to go home, lock your doors, and not come back out until tomorrow morning. The next time you see a suspicious Mammals walking around your neighborhood at night, you call the police! Now go!”

They practically galloped away.

Bogo turned back to the jackal. “Would you like a ride home?”

“Yes, please.” He nodded. “I'd appreciate that. Thank you.”

They lead him back to the squad car. Obviously, there was no place for him to sit except the back seat next to the cuffed zebra. 

“Hey, man! Don't put him back here with me!” He objected, shaking his long horse-like snout in agitation. “I don' wanna be chained next to no stinkin' pred! Hey, man, what if he eats me! I don' wanna get eaten by no pred!”

Bogo ignored him and drove the jackal home. The address on his ID wasn't far, it just wasn't exactly close for a Mammal traveling on foot. They dropped him off, but to the shock of his wife and cubs. How often was it that your husband was brought home in a police squad car? 

That little bump taken care of, they were back on their way to Precent Six, Tundra Town district. 

…

Doug was on his way back to the lab in Rainforest District when he got Bellwether's text. Something forwarded from their operative in the ZPD. It was a bit cryptic, but if he understood it correctly, the Chief of Police, Westley Bogo, was out on the streets like a normal beat-cop and had partnered up with a predator officer. 

This was an opportunity of unheard of luck. 

One of the reasons why Lionheart fell -in addition to some fantastic manipulating on Bellwether's part- was because he never managed to get the Chief of Police in his pocket. He didn't have control of his own law enforcement, and so that same law enforcement took him down. Admittedly, at the time, that was good for them. Chief Bogo was playing right into their hooves. But now the time was soon coming when Bellwether would have to make a decision about the water buffalo. They couldn't exactly keep their activities a secret indefinitely. That was a lesson they'd learned vicariously through Lionheart. 

No conspiracy lasts forever. 

To avoided sharing the same fate at Leodore Lionheart, they would have to either convert Bogo to their cause. Or else remove him from the equation entirely. It seemed the Police Chief himself had made the decision for them, by offering the perfect opportunity to take him out and take him out in a way that would further their own agendas. The same way they took out the opposition Gazelle represented. Have a predator go Savage and attack him. 

The Savage didn't even have to kill him. Just maim him in a way that would force the buffalo into an early retirement. 

Either way, it was always easier to appoint a new Chief of Police that you knew was on your side instead of trying to convert to your way of thinking the one that was already in office. 

Now he just had to catch up to their car. Set up a shot. Dart a pred, and take out a cop.


	10. Morning Brings Little Comfort

Judy saw the ram before he even knew what hit him. 

Literally. 

She was running a circuit of Tundra Town before she planned on making her way to the other districts. He was crouched on top of a building overlooking the parking lot of the ZPD's Precent Six. The rabbit recognized the gun before she recognized the Mammal holding it. He had swapped out the barrel for something longer, better suited to long range shots, but the trigger, grip, and ammo chamber were the same. It was the same gun. The one that shot Nick. The Night Howler gun. 

After recognizing that, Judy recognized the ram holding it as 'Doug', the sniper Bellwether hired to dart innocent predators and turn them Savage. 

He was staked out overlooking a police station. Was he planning on turning an officer Savage? Half the Zootopia Police force was predator. One of their officers turning Savage -especially if it was during the line of duty- would be devastating to city moral. Equally as devastating as the attack on Gazelle, still only hours fresh, was already proving to be. That, and more innocent Mammals would be harmed. Judy couldn't let that happen. 

She got a running start, jumped, and landed and two-footed kick against the barrel of the gun. 

The shot went sideways. The Night Howler pellet impacting impotently on an office window on the second floor. Doug blinked in shock at not only being discovered but also being attacked. Judy looked down to make sure no was hurt and saw Chief Bogo and Clawhouser leaving the precent, and her heard did a funny little twist when she realized who Doug's target must have been. Ben was to sweet and gentle to go Savage, the nicest predator Judy had ever met. That would have been cruel. 

Doug recovered quickly. He was an ex-army ranger. One didn't last long if they remained stunned on the battlefield. He didn't know who this little hooded interloper was, but they had just blown his shot! He lowered his head and charged the interloper, taking advantage of their distraction to pushing them off the roof. 

Judy flailed, groping madly in mid air for something to stop her fall. How did children's cartoons make this look to easy? Her paws connected with a flagpole jutting out from the building. Her fur slipped over the metal of the pole, but her blunt bunny claws managed to grab hold of the fabric of the flag itself and she hung there, for a moment. Breathing. Taking note of the fact that she was still alive and not splattered all over the pavement below. Street pizza. 

Below her, she saw Bogo and Clawhouser crossing the motor pool back to their squad car. Safe and unaffected for the moment. Completely oblivious to the danger that had just narrowly avoided them. 

Taking a deep breath, Judy used the flag she was holding to swing herself back up into the roof she'd just been thrown from, bracing herself for a second attack. 

But Doug was busy loading a fresh round of Night Howler formula into the chamber.

She rushed at him a second time, but now the sheep was prepared for her. He ducked to the side, lashing out with a kick to throw the smaller Mammal off her feet, the wind knocked out of her. 

He rested the barrel of the gun on the rooftop railing and leaned into the scope to line up his next shot. The first one went -blissfully- unnoticed by the police below and so there was scurry or panic. No frustrating duck and cover. Everyone was just going about their business. 

Through the scope, Doug saw the cheetah gesturing wildly as he recounted a story of some variety to the police chief, then grip his belly as his whole body shook with jovial laughter. The buffalo just rolled his eyes and motioned for the predator to get in the car. The cheetah's back was turned as he reached for the door handle and Doug had a perfect, unobstructed shot at the back of his neck. 

Judy pushed herself back to her paws. Saw the sheep already lining up for another shot and jumped on him. 

“No!” The rabbit shouted as she wrapped both paws around her eyes and pulled his head back. 

His hoof squeezed the trigger. A soft p'sh was heard from the silencer as the round left the chamber. 

“No...” Judy muttered again. 

She had failed. Doug had shot a member of the ZPD. One of Zootopia's finest was going to go Savage in the middle of a crisis that already had the ZPD spread then, right outside a ZPD precent, in the presence of the Chief of Police. Oh, cheese and crackers! What if Bogo was attacked? Mr. Big implied that he might work for Bellwether, but if he did, why would she have another one of her goons dart a pred so close to him? That could only mean one thing. Bogo was really on her side all along and now he was about to be mauled by one of his own officers!

Judy lifted her ears. There should be more sounds of panic. She should hear Mammals screaming or the predator growling or snarling. Instead, she heard just the normal chatter that was drifting up to them from the street before the ram took the shot. Judy looked back over the ledge.

Clawhouser was climbing into the cruiser, moving normal and still laughing at hs own joke. The shot had thankfully missed him. On top of the cruiser was a large dark and very wet bluish-purple stain. The oddest bird poop stain in the history of bird poop stains. Where the Night Howler round had hit and burst instead. 

Judy sighed with relief. “He's alright.”

Doug, taking advantage of her distraction, grabbed the sniper rifle from the edge of the roof and hit Judy with it. This time knocking her out. 

When the bunny came to again, she was alone on the roof. Doug having absconded with the gun. She had no idea where he went.

But more importantly than that, Judy was pretty sure she and Nick blew up their drug lab. She would know. They barely managed to get out with their lives -never mind the Howler gun- before the subway car impacted the tunnel wall, the propane was ignited and everything went up in a spectacular ball of fire. Yup. Just was fairly certain their lab was destroyed. So, the real question was, where and how were they making more Night Howler formula and ammo?

Mr. Big probably had the resources and connections to find out for her, and with most of his employees being polar bears -predators- he would also have a vested interest in putting an end to Bellwether's Nigh Howler production. But, at the same time, Mr. Big probably wouldn't let her be involved in the take down. He'd want her to lay low. Stay dead. Stay out of the line of fire and stay safe. From the moment she dragged herself to his frozen doorstep after that train wreck of a confrontation at the museum, he'd been preventing her from taking the action she felt she needed to take to save the city. Telling her to stay at home with his daughter and her child. Let the men-folk handle this. (Not Mr. Big's words.)

Well, Judy Hopps was not in the habit of letting other people do her job for her. She was going to find Bellwether's new drug lab, and she was going to do it herself, her way!

…

The sun slowly rose over the cityscape, reflecting off the steel and glass of the buildings, illuminating the city and bringing an end to what was probably the longest night in Zootopian history. 

Bogo and Clawhouser shambled back into Precent One exhausted and looking like they were ready to collapse. 

“I've never felt more out of shape, than I do right now.” Commented the cheetah as he slumped down in the first chair he could find -which was the second reception seat. 

Muttonson had been dozing, her head resting on the desk, but she was startled back to full waking when his bulk settled down beside her. “You're back!” She blinked, not at Clawhouser but at Bogo as if she wasn't expecting to ever see him again. “And you're alright. I was so worried.”

“Go home, Muttonson.” The buffalo sighed, rubbing his eyes. Clawhouser had the right idea. Find a place to park your tail and rest. But there was something important he wanted to check first. At least, Bogo thought there was. It was a little hard for his sleep deprived and exhaustion addled brain to recall. But he was pretty sure that he'd had an epiphany of some kind right before all this madness started. Something Lionheart had said during their interview sparked something, but now the police chief was to beat -physically and mentally- to remember what it was. “Get some rest, we all need some rest.”

He shambled to his office, closed the door behind him, slumped down in his chair, and fell fast asleep. 

…

The attack on Gazelle sparked some pretty passionate and violent riots, but all rioters were Mammals and Mammals eventually got tired. The moment Primal decided it was sane enough for him to go outside and cross the city again, he hopped on the rail and rode straight to Silver's house in Timberland. 

When he got there, the gray wolf was outside, duct taping what looked like a cotton bed sheet over what was unmistakably a broken window. 

“What happened?” The gorilla asked.

The wolf offered him a self-deprecating smile. “A rock decided it could fly, and my window happened to be in its way.”

“Are you okay?” Primal asked. 

“Oh, me? I'm fine.” He assured the gorilla. “But... but they crushed a brown recluse...”

Amazingly, Primal was not the least bit sad about this. Brow recluse, in addition to being just as creepy as every other spider on Earth, were also highly poisonous. One less venomous spider in the world didn't seem like such a terrible thing to him. Then -almost hearing Hopp's voice in his head- he realized that this way of thinking wasn't really all that different than how Bellwether and her conspiracy of sheep must feel about predators. That made him feel bad. 

“I'm sorry.” The gorilla shifted from foot to foot. It was terrible that the wolf was targeted during the riots, but that wasn't actually the reason he came. “Listen... I know things have been pretty crazy recently, but... did you happen to take a look at that toxic plant I gave you?”

The wolf paused in his duct taping of the sheet to look at the gorilla. “Yeah. Your antidote's inside. Finish this for me and I'll get it for you.”

He tossed Primal the duct tape and went back inside. 

The gorilla was just finishing up securing the sheet over the broken window when Silvers came back out again, holding a small metal box just a bit bigger than a cigaret case. 

“I don't know what you're mixed up in, Primal.” The wolf said. “But when I ran your flower through the mass spectrometer it came back with a whole bunch of crazy crap!”

“How scientific of you.” The gorilla gave a silent laugh at his word choice. 

“I'm serious, Primal.” Silvers insisted. “Whatever that plant was that you gave me, its worse than LSD and PCP combined. Here's your anti-toxin. It'll counter act the major effects, but I'm not a botanist or a toxicologist so this isn't a compete cure for what this thing can do to a Mammal.”

The gorilla opened the case to find it contained six tubes containing a fluid almost the same viscosity as blood in a shade of blue just a bit paler than the actual Nigh Howler flower. “But it will make a Mammal lucid, right?”

…

Judy couldn't find Doug after losing him on the roof. Getting knocked unconscious by an aggressive ram can have that effect on a pursuit.

She returned to the abandoned subway station the old lab used to be parked at. But it was even more abandoned than it was before. No new disused railcar had been converted. In fact there were no signs that anyone had been there since she and Nick stoke the train car, and subsequently blew it up. She tried finding Duke Weaselton but he wasn't exactly helpful. 

“Ain't you s'pose to be dead?” He blinked at her, the toothpick he had been chewing on fell from hos mouth when she grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him up against a wall. 

“As you can clearly see, I'm not.” The bunny growled at him, pressing the side of his head hard against the wall with her free paw. “Now are you gonna tell me what I want to know, or am I gonna have to take you back to Mr. Big?”

“Okay! Okay!” Pleaded the weasel. “Jeez, it sucks when the goody-goodies have friends in Big places. I ain't sold no Night Howler since you and Nicky strong armed me the last time!” A paws. “Heard he was the one that did ya. Guess he didn't like the taste of your bitter shriveled tail!”

She slammed his head into the wall again. 

“You have no idea what you're talking about!” Judy let go of him and turned to leave. Weaselton was useless and she didn't want to waste her time with him. But, remembering that he was also a predator, she paused, turning back just long enough to tell him. “You know those Night Howlers you were stealing -they're the reason so many predators are going Savage. Its a mind-altering drug and the sheep you were selling them to was weaponizing it. That's what happened to Nick. If you won't help me, then at least help yourself and don't deal Night Howlers anymore.”

The weasel stared at her. “You're hustling me.”

She might have had a witty comeback. But the 'hustling' comment reminded her to much of Nick and Judy found that she just didn't have it in her to be feisty and clever at the moment. “Does it matter? You'll just do whatever you want anyway.”

Then she walked away for real. She had to find someone who would help her. Someone who knew the streets of Zootopia, not just his way around town, but the Mammals who lived in the city itself. But also someone who was willing to help her. Someone who knew her -who knew her and Nick. Judy dashed off to find Finnick. 

The van was not in the ally she found it in the last time. 

In fact, she couldn't find his bright red van with its provocative fantasy mural anywhere in the neighborhood. It wasn't like she could put out an all points bulletin for it. Since she was supposed to be dead, she didn't exactly have access to her ZPD resources anymore. So she went off of the very little that she knew of the diminutive fennec fox. 

Judy knew that he lived in his van -which could be moved anywhere. She knew that he was Nick's partner in... activities that fell just short of crime. That was about all she knew about him. Not much to go on. So she did the only other thing she could think of. She followed what she knew of Nick. 

First she checked the last place she found him. The lawn chair was still there. Tipped over, but still laying on the bank of the stream, beside the bridge. Judy had to smile slightly at the memory. She and Nick made up next to -literal- water under a bridge. But Finnick wasn't there, so she didn't stick around to indulge in an emotion she refused to call 'pinning'. 

The next place she tried was the ice cream parlor where they first met. It was still early in the morning, the shop hadn't even opened yet. There were a few Mammals out on the streets, shambling home after the crazy night the city just had to endure, or else on their way to work like responsible and constructive members of society. But no red van with a provocative mural, and no fennec fox. 

Next she tried Sahara Square where she saw them melting to Jumbo Pop. Then back to Tundra Town where she spied them refreezing it into Pawpsicles. Then to Lemming Brothers Bank in City Central where she watched them sell the Pawpsicles. Still nothing. 

For a moment, Judy thought about going to Little Rodentia to the construction site that Nick and Finnick had sold the used popsicle sticks to. But then she decided that would be a useless exercise. Finnick was pretty small -smaller than Judy herself- but he was still just a little to big to hide out in Little Rodentia. Besides, there was no where for him to park his van.

Flat out of ideas, Judy tried the only other place she could think of in combination with Nick (and possibly Finnick by extension). According to Nick's tax forms -which she honestly wasn't sure were all that reliable since he lied about everything else on them- his home address was 1955 Cypress Grove Lane, Downtown District. It was a bit of a long shot, but what did she have to lose?

The address belonged to a run-down and abandoned looking clothing store and custom tailor. The faded sign was missing a few letters, so it read 'Sit-pi'. But the silhouettes left behind in the grime told her that it was actually supposed to be 'Suit-topia'. 

Shrugging to herself, Judy did a circle around the building and was revealed beyond belief to find the familiar red van with its provocative fantasy mural on the side. Judy dashed around to the back of it and banged loudly on the double doors, expecting the small fox to throw them open and threaten her with a baseball bat just like last time. 

Instead she was beaned in the head by something thrown from a second floor window above the abandoned clothing store. 

Judy looked at the spool of green thread that had hit her as it roll over the filthy pavement. Then she looked up at the window it had been thrown from and saw Finnick leaning out the sill, an armful of the projectiles held at the ready. 

“Get the hell away from there!” The tiny fox snarled. 

Judy lowered her hood, letting her ears out and showing the fennec fox who she was. “It's me. I need your help again!”

Finnick gaped at her, as if not quite believing what his eyes were telling him. “Officer Toot-toot? Ain't you supposed to be dead!?”

“Long story.” She told him. “I could tell it to you if you let me in.”

There was a beat of silence and, for a moment, Judy wondered of Finnick was gonna throw another spool of thread at her and tell her to go the yiff away. Maybe even go so far as to say that it was her fault Nick went Savage and she didn't have the right to show her face around him ever again. Judy certainly felt it was her fault Nick had gone Savage. If she hadn't stalked him back to his little troll bridge and convinced him to track down the Night Howlers with her...

Instead, Finnick sighed, as if exasperated. “Hang on a sec.” 

He disappeared from the upper window.

A few moments later, the back door to the shop was cracked open just enough for the rabbit to slip in.

Inside, everything seemed to be caked in a thick layer of dust, disturbed only by a clear and distinct trail of fennec fox sized paw prints. Everything else -sewing machines, dress forms, bolts of fabric, a cutting counter, mirrors- were all coated in a grayish haze. At least a decade's worth of neglect caking the exposed surfaces. 

“What is this place?” Judy found herself asking, and then mentally kicked herself for the stupid question. It was obviously some sort of custom tailoring workshop and clothing boutique. 

“This is Nick's place.” Finnick supplied as if her question wasn't really all that absurd. He lead her upstairs.

“Was he squatting here?” The rabbit asked.

Finnick paused on the stairs to look back at her as if that was the weird question. “No. He owns the building.”

Upstairs was much cleaner -by comparison. It was still messy. But it was a 'lived in' kind of mess. Not an 'ancient ruin undisturbed for countless years' messy. Above the shop was a cozy little apartment. The stairs opened up onto a narrow hallway. One end featuring a small kitchen, just big enough to fit a tiny table but still allow for a red fox sized Mammal to cook a meal comfortably. At the opposite end of the hall a door stood ajar revealing it to be a bathroom. Lingering in the middle of the hall between the bathroom and kitchen were two other doors which Judy assumed must be bedrooms. 

Overall, the place seemed fit for a small family.

And then a thought struck her. “Was this... is this where Nick grew up?”

Finnick snorted. “Hmph. I guess you're not such a terrible detective after all.” He walked to the kitchen and pulled a beer out of the fridge. One beer. For himself. He did not offer one to Judy. “Now, you're gonna tell me how the hell you're still alive. Last I heard, Nicky went Savage and ate you!” A pause and he looked the bunny up and down with glare of mock-appraisal. “You don't look very eaten to me.”

“He did go Savage.” Judy nodded, sitting at the tiny kitchen table across from the small fox. She was looking around the room in fascination. Yellow linoleum floors, dark wood counters, hand-made needlepoint on the walls. Judy never would have imagined Nick living in a place so... normal. Truth be told, she would not have been surprised if he lived under the bridge she found him at. “But I managed to escape. Bellwether said I died to push her own agendas.” 

And then she told Finnick everything. About how she and Nick got a tip from Duke Weaselton (she left out the part about Mr. Big), how they followed the tip to the disused rail station and the abandoned train car, explained how they were using the Night Howler flowers to cultivate a drug that made Mammals turn Savage and targeted predators in order to turn public opinion against them. They were intentionally cultivating speciesism. How it was her idea to steal the whole train car and take it back to the ZPD. How bad of an idea that really was -and that it went up in flames. The chase to the museum. Her injury. Falling into the sunken exhibit. Nick being darted, and her subsequent escape. 

“I was injured and had to lay low for a while.”She finished. “But last night was so crazy, I had to go out and help if I could. I ran into one of the sheep that was darting predators and realized they must have rebuilt their drug lab. But I can't find it on my own.” A pause. “I was... I was kinda hoping you'd be willing to help me with that.”

Finnick raised an eyebrow at that. “Right. 'Cause Nick's been expended, so now you need a new 'sly and shifty' fox to take your falls for you.”

“What?” Judy blinked at him. 

“Listen, Honey-Bunny,” the small fox leaned over the table, as if conspiring a secret plot with a friend, “Nicky's always had a bit of a hero-complex. Even since before he tried to join those stupid Junior Ranger Scouts -runs in the family, they all wanted to stick it to the rich and help the poor- so I'm not surprised you managed to manipulate him into attacking Prey Supremacists on their own turf. Even after you made him trust you then ripped his heart out at that press conference -yeah, don't think he didn't tell me about that little gem.” 

The small fox finished his beer and threw the empty bottle out the kitchen window. Judy heard it shatter on the pavement below.

“But don't forget,” he continued, “I was there when you first hustled him into helping you in the first place. I know just how cold you can be. So, no. I ain't gonna help you. You don't con your own partner and you don't abandon your partner to take the fall, you protect the Mammal you're with and in return he'll protect you. That's how it works. You have consistently used Nick without giving him anything in return, and in the end, he ended up insane and locked up while you're out and about, and healthy as can be. It's nothing personal, sweetheart, just business.” A pause. “Well, maybe a little personal.”

“But if they're making more Night Howler-”

“Not your problem anymore. You're dead, remember.” Finnick snapped at her. “I think you've done enough. Every time you try to help, things just end up worse. You need to learn to cut your losses and walk away. Speaking of walking away, I think its time you left.”

He stood from the table to shoo her back out. Finnick didn't know what possessed him to let her into Nick's house in the first place. He knew the idealistic red fox found the naive bunny cop amusing, but after hearing her story Finnick had never been more sure that she was toxic. Nothing good could come from helping Judy Hopps. Nick tried to -twice- and look what happened to him. 

…

Primal wasn't really sure how to measure out the dosages. Obviously, larger predators would need more of the anti-toxin than the smaller predators. With Nick and Otterton taking the smallest amounts and Barry DiCaprio and Sven Polarvsky taking the largest doses. But how much would he need to administer to successfully counter the effects of the Night Howler? How much would be to much and overload their systems. 

Using new medications was always risky business -and this one didn't even have the luxury of a focus group or testing phase. Primal was working blind. 

Taking a syringe, the gorilla injected a dose of the anti-toxin into Nick Wilde's IV drip. “This better not kill you.” He muttered to the sleeping fox. “Otherwise, your little bunny will kill me. She's uncommonly fond of you, ya know.”

Primal watched the monitors for several minutes to make sure Nick wasn't going to instantly crash. When he was satisfied that nothing life threatening was happening inside the fox's body, he left the room to make his rounds with the rest of the Savages. He didn't know how long it would take. The was Hopps described it, the Night Howler acted almost instantly, but Primal had no reason to assume Silver's partial antidote would work just as fast. 

For all the gorilla knew, the anti-toxin could take hours -or even days. 

…

In the wake of the Concert Tragedy, in which beloved pop sensation Gazelle was attacked mid-performance by one of her own backup dancers (a Mammal that had worked with the diva for years) the City Council was quick to push through their approval of the Taming Initiative. The Savage predator problem had gotten out of hand. Two were dead now thanks to these beasts. It was time City Hall got off their collected tails and did something. 

The initiative passed with a unanimous vote and went into effect one week after the the announcement that it passed. 

Distribution centers for the TAME collars were set up in community centers and high school auditoriums around the city. Predator type residents had thirty one days to report to their local distribution centers to be fitted with collars from themselves and their families if necessary. Pups and cubs as young as five years of age were required to wear the shock collars. Cubs and pups younger than five years would be issued a collar upon completion of their fifth birthday. 

Koslov hesitated to let the volunteer sheep clip the shock collar around his son's neck. The little polar bear cub didn't quite realize exactly what the collar meant. He was excited to receive it. The moment it was snapped around his neck, he dashed off to proudly show his friends. The little light on the collar shifting from green to yellow. 

“Morris!” Koslov called to the boy. 

But his little cub either didn't hear him or was ignoring his father's warning. As his emotions continued to run high with excitement, the yellow light flashed red and the collar shocked the little cub. 

Morris looked back at his father, his eyes shining with newly forming tears. He didn't understand what just happened, or why. 

If, after the thirty one days allotted to report and receive their collar voluntarily, any predator type Mammals who did not report could be ticketed and fined. If, after the first citation they did not claim their collar, the predator in question could be arrested, held for twenty-four hours, and have their collar issued to them by the ZPD instead of a city volunteer. 

That also meant they went on a watch list. 

Any predator that law enforcement had get involved with went on a new watch list. 

Without Nick and his easy money schemes that just managed to stay on the right side of legal, Finnick found himself on the ZPD radar sooner than he would have liked. As he was shoved into a holding cell to wait while an officer found a TAME collar in his size, the diminutive fennec fox had to wonder if maybe he shouldn't have been so quick to dismiss Nick's bunny. He might not have liked her personally -or professionally- but she did seem to want to help Zootopia and all its Mammals, predator and prey alike. 

But as the collar was snapped around his neck he remembered that both times Nick tried helping the obnoxiously energetic little fluff, he'd been burned. The second and last time, burned bad. 

He tugged on the collar experimentally, only to receive a small warning shock for 'tampering' with it. 

If this experience taught him anything, it was that no good ever came from associating with prey. 

…

His dreams were strange. 

Of big, amethyst eyes. Deep indigo staring at him. Wide with emotions he never wanted to see directed at him. Betrayal. Sadness. Fear. No! Don't look at him that way! He didn't want to see that. He wasn't- he wasn't like that! 'What did I do wrong? Tell me what I did wrong?'

Of his pulse pounding in his ears. A pain in his neck. The ghost of a head ache. A female voice, desperate and afraid. 'Nick, please, fight it!' Why was she so scared?

A sudden rush. It made him feel confident and powerful. Potent. But also hungry. Very, very hungry. A hunger that could only be satisfied by the sweet taste of young supple flesh. Warm and inviting. Pulsing with life and vitality. 

The scent of blood. 

'Nick, please, fight it!'

'What did I do wrong? Tell me what I did wrong?'

So hungry. 

A scent so delicious and inviting. Young and healthy. But also injured. Blood. Vulnerable. Easy. 

Prey!

'Nick, please, fight it!'

The taste of blood. Metallic and thick. So much blood. 

'I'm sorry... Goodby, Nick...'

Groggily, Nickolas Wilde shook off the latest helping of sedatives they kept hm on and was confused to find himself in laying in a bed that was not his own, in a room that was most definitely not his house. It looked to be a hospital room, but what hospital had bars on the windows? If that wasn't disturbing enough, the fox found that he was also strapped to the bed. Tied down and unable to move his arms or legs. 

Nick felt something constricting around his throat and reached his paws up to feel a collar wrapped around his neck. His reflection in the barred window showed it was a glowing yellow light. 

What gives? Why the Dr. Lecter treatment?

Then he remembered his dream. The taste of blood and Judy's voice. 'I'm sorry... Goodby, Nick...'

Bile rose in the back of his throat and Nick had to fight the sudden reflex to vomit. What had he done?

Bellwether shot him with the Night Howler, he went down, Judy was on top of him, and then... and then... 'Nick, please, fight it!' ...What had he done!?

And then the small yellow light on his collar flashed red and Nick experienced a strong electric shock that threw him back down into the darkness of unconsciousness.


	11. How We Cope Without the Ones We Know

'Ya know, you'd actually make a pretty good cop.' She leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms over her chest and cast him a sideways smirk.

He would be lying if he didn't admit -at least to himself- that the comment kindles a spark of pride in him. Small, tentative and wary, but there all the same. After all, the city police were supposed to be a grown-up version of the Junior Ranger Scouts.

'I, Nicholas Wilde, promise to be brave, loyal, helpful, and trustworthy!'

But he knew it was impossible, so -in keeping with his vow to 'Never let them see they get to you', he put on an appropriately offended expression and scoffed. 'Ugh. How dare you.'

'Nick, please, fight it!'

But then at the press conference, right before she got up on the podium, she had to pull a paper out of her belt. Unfolding it slowly and tentatively, staring up at him with those giant amethyst eyes that he wanted to fall into. She was almost hesitant when she handed it to him and he saw that it was a blank application to enroll in the police academy. 'It might be nice to have a partner.'

She wasn't just teasing. She honestly and truly thought he would have a pretty good cop. Not just any cop -her partner cop. She wanted him as her partner. A bunny wanted a fox to watch her back in the line of duty. A bunny -his ancestral natural prey- trusted him with her life. 

'I, Nicholas Wilde, promise to be brave, loyal, helpful, and trustworthy!'

He filled it out with the carrot pen he'd finally earned while she hopped up to the podium. She was so nervous. It was adorable. He smiled at her, prompting her to try the answering their questions with questions of her own technique. She did well at first. She was a natural. He was proud of her and -sort of- proud of himself vicariously through her. 

Then things sort of tilted sideways. 

'Predators reverting back to their Savage ways...'

'Nick, please, fight it!'

'Nick, stop it. You're not like them.'

'You're not that kind of predator.'

His pulse pounding in his ears. A pain on his neck. Sand between his paws. The sound of a frightened bunny. The scent of meat. Young, supple, fresh flesh. So close to him. Already weakened. Easy. Prey. He was suddenly so hungry.

'Nick, please fight it.'

'He can't help it. Its in his nature.'

The taste of blood in his mouth. Warm, metallic, thick.

'What did I do wrong? Tell me what I did wrong?'

'I, Nicholas Wilde, promise to be brave, loyal, helpful, and trustworthy!'

So much blood!

'I'm sorry. Goodbye, Nick...'

For the second time, Nick Wilde woke up from a strange and terrible nightmare. 

He lay in bed, panting, and trying to remember where he was and why. Bed with rails on it. Paws strapped down so that he didn't hurt himself or someone else. Collar around his neck. Bars on the window. Locks on the doors. Hospital. Savage wing of Zootopia General. Because- Nick stifled a sob as memory and comprehension returned- because he had gone Savage and attacked Carrots. Attacked Officer Hopps. 

Had his paws not been strapped down, he would have put them over his eyes in despair. He attacked Carrots. He proved himself to be every terrible he was so mad about her saying about predators at the press conference. She trusted him and he... and he... he tried to eat her! 

The indicator light on his collar flashed yellow, warning that if he allowed himself to be worked up anymore it would turn red and shock him. Nick remembered the shock from the previous night. He did not want a repeat of that. But he also had to know what happened to Carrots. Was she alive? Was she alright? Was she in the same hospital just a different ward? Could he see her? Would she even want to see him after he... after he... Nearly ate her...

He took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. Nick did not want to get shocked again. 

As he inhaled, he was assaulted by a cornucopia of scents and smells. Far more than he was used to smelling in hospitals. Somehow, his mind came back to its civilized self, but his nose remained as sensative and keen as it had been that night at the museum. His nose remained Savage. 

There was scent of antiseptic, of course. But it was more acrid that usual. Stronger. More caustic to his nose. But also, the scents of the other Mammals on the ward. The door was closed, but he could clearly smell the slightly salty scent of a marine Mammal -an otter. The woodsy scent of perspiration -a jungle cat, possible a jaguar. Something in the back of his mind told Nick to be hostile and on the defense. So close to other predators, they might infringe on his territory and poach his meals. But he squished that not-quite-voice down. It was that kind of primal instinct that had attacked Carrots -and he still didn't know what happened to her. 

The rich smell of mineral mud and algae waters drew nearer, superimposing itself over the scents of the other predators as it drew nearer. A hippo. What was a hippo doing on a Savage ward? The Savages were all predators. 

Nick didn't have to wait long before he got his answer. The door to his room opened at that exact moment and none other than a female hippo wearing a doctor's coat over her yellow sundress poked her snout in and paused when she saw him staring at her. 

Doctor Lakeson was making her round of checkups. She froze when she got to the fox's room. 

Opening the door, she paused when she saw that he was not snapping and growling at her like he -and the rest of the Savages- usually did whenever she or Primal entered one of their rooms, the space their primitive minds probably thought of as their territory. 

Instead, he was sitting up in bed. Had his arms not been strapped to the bed, he might even have been crossing said arms over his chest. Instead, his paws were gripping the restraints with tension. His verdant green eyes glaring at her as she entered the room. The warning light on his collar already glowing yellow.

“You the boss around here?” He asked. Actually spoke. Spoke! Like, with words and everything! 

Lakeson blinked at him. At a complete loss as to what to think. Yesterday he was just as much of a mindless beast as all the other Savages on the ward. Now, suddenly and inexplicably, he was all better. Using complete sentences. Asking questions. Behaving like a Mammal again. “I'm the resident psychiatrist on staff here. If that's what you mean.”

She entered the room fully and glanced at his chart to refresh herself with the details that hadn't been relevant to his care before this moment -like his name. 

“How do you feel... Mr. Wilde?” She asked, taking out a penlight and checking his eyes. There was no pupil dilation and he had no problems tracking. 

He frowned, as if considering her question. As if he didn't know his own feelings -either physical or emotional. “I was with a friend when- -when I changed. Judy. Judy Hopps. She works for the ZPD. What happened to her? She was right next to me when it happened and- and she's prey. Is she okay?”

Lakeson paused. Hopps was the name of the police officer he was supposed to have killed, right? She was his friend.

Clearing her throat, the hippo straightened. “Ahm. You were alone when they brought you in. If you want, I can ask if there was anyone else with you when you were caught.”

The fox paused at that statement. Eyes narrowing slightly, head tilting to the side to regard her skeptically, nose sniffing the space between them almost as if he could smell the half-truth she'd just told him for what it really was. He nodded to the restraints around his wrists. “Clearly, you think I'm dangerous. I'm not stupid. You don't put these things on patients unless they tried to hurt someone and I know what happens when a predator goes Savage. So tell me straight-up, Doc, what happened to Hopps?”

Her eyes flicked to the yellow light on his collar, warning her that he was already emotionally riled up. Under any normal circumstances, she would not tell a patient they had killed someone first thing after waking. Now knowing she had been his friend, she especially wasn't going to tell him until she got a better understanding of his emotional state. The psychiatrist didn't want to have to deal with foiling suicide attempts -or at the very least, self harm- on top of everything else she and Primal were having to juggle all by themselves with the Savages. 

But he would have to know eventually. The fact that something like that couldn't be kept secret aside, if no one told him he killed another Mammal he wouldn't be able to work through it and move past it. 

Lakeson cleared her throat. “I still have a few other Mammals I need to see. We'll talk more indepthly after I've finished my rounds.”

“That bad, huh.” The fox's emerald eyes fell to the straps around his paws.

“We'll work through it together.” She promised the fox, neither confirming nor denying whatever visions or scenarios were playing in his head. Lakeson hastily scribbled a long -very long- note on his chart before exiting the room. 

And Nick was left along with his thoughts and his imagination. 

The hippo wouldn't tell him what happened to Judy. That really could only mean one thing. After all, if she was alright, maybe a little injured but otherwise alive, then the doctor would have just told him outright that she was okay, or would be okay. Since she didn't... that meant... that meant...

The yellow light on Nick's collar flashed red and he was given a strong electric shock. 

His body seized and he was thrown down on the bed by the force of his own body's muscle convulsions. What were these stupid collars anyway? They weren't collaring Savages back when the city first started to go crazy, after Carrots' horseshit press conference. Or... were these shock collars only being placed on Savages whom had... whom had... killed someone? 

'So what are you going to do? Kill me?'

'Oh no, honey. He is!'

Nick's breath caught in his chest as the realization hit him. Really hit him. It was true! He did it. He remembered Judy's panicked voice and scared eyes. The taste of blood in his mouth. He killed her! She trusted him, asked him to help her, chose him over any of her reputable colleagues at the ZPD, and he- he-

He was shocked again by the collar as his increased heart rate triggered another red warning light. 

Forcing himself to relax, Nick chanted his mantra of 'Never let them see they get to you'. Only with an amendment of 'It wasn't you. It wasn't you. It wasn't you.' Bellwether shot him with the Night Howler. He had no control over himself. It wasn't really him. 

Except... if it wasn't really him, then how was he able to remember it? Not all of it. Just flashes and images. More sensations than actual, clear memories. The scent of fear, blood, and prey. The sight of wide amethyst eyes, an indigo so deep he could have fallen in them had he still been himself. The feel of sand between the pads of his paws. The taste- -the taste of blood in his mouth. And Judy's voice...

'Goodbye, Nick...'

“Carrots...” He muttered to the empty room, unable to cope with the realization. “Carrots, I'm so sorry...”

…

Mr. Big frowned, examining the collar around Ksolov's neck. Kevin and Raymond both sported identical collars. Each one with a green light indicating that they were stable and passive. The shrew did not like that. 

Not that they were stable and passive. He didn't care much for their mental or emotional states beyond what was appropriate for any employer. What he didn't like was that the collective city as a whole felt there was a need for such an absurd and redundant indicator in the first place. Any Mammal with eyes could look at a predator and know their emotional state. Faces made these things called 'expressions' that could tell all but the most introverted of Mammals what the other was feeling. 

The collars were not any kind of real warning of predator aggression. They were just silent way of widening the division between predator and prey. The city might as well have made them all hand signs around their neck saying 'Don't trust this Mammal!'

But they were required to wear them, and since Mr. Big was required to maintain at least the pretense of being a legitimate business Mammal, he had to go along with it.

That was really the only option any Mammal in the city had.

…

Finnick had moved his van to the alley behind Nick's place in an attempt to avoid the worst of the rioters. He stayed at Nick's place because it was more comfortable than his van and it wasn't like the red fox was going to be using it still -being Savagely insane and all. 

He sat at Nick's kitchen table, pulling at his TAME collar in irritation while staring blankly at a needlepoint of Robin Goodfellow in a shadowbox. Marian must have made that. John was a tailer and great at sewing, but he had no talent for embroidery -and Nick certainly didn't either. His talents laid in other areas. Areas where Finnick's own talents also rested. It was the basis for their partnership and -by extension- their friendship. 

The two foxes had grown up in the same neighborhood, but for the majority of their young lives never had much to do with each other. Nick was naive and idealistic, with a semi-stable home life, and parents who supported him. Finnick, on the other hand, was a ward of the state and bounced around a few foster homes. Only staying at each long enough for the foster family to decide they didn't feel comfortable with a predator in the house. Then he ended up with a mongoose family that lived just a few blocks down from the Wildes. 

Nick ran with a completely different crowd when Finnick first met him. The goodie-goodies. The ones that always did their homework on time, respected their teachers, didn't start fights on the play yard, came inside when their parents told them to... ya know, the 'good kits'. Finnick was not a 'good kit' and he thought Nick was a dork and a looser. 

Then something changed. The foxes were still pretty young. Eight, maybe nine. Nick showed up at school one day sans his optimistic smile and bright eyes. He sat at the back of the class and didn't talk to anyone. When someone did talk to him, he would pause, as if thinking and calculating his answer. It was like he just woke up one morning and was suddenly and inexplicably transformed into a real fox. Finnick decided he had slightly more respect for the red fox.

But they didn't have an actual conversation until about three years later. 

They were twelve and John Wilde had just past away. The store had to be closed -since John pretty much ran the place himself- and Nick and his mother suddenly found themselves without a source of income, but no shortage of bills needing to be paid. In addition to the regular expenses of electricity, city water, gas, and food, there was also the funeral that had to be paid off -and funerals were not cheap. 

Nick wasn't looking for a partner, in fact, Finnick was pretty sure he didn't even know what he was doing. But somehow, the two of them ended up working a similar scam on the same turf. Needless to say, they got in each other's way. Almost got pinched by the cops because of it too. 

After just managing to evade the fuzz, the two foxes rounded on each other for their first -and only- fist fight. Nick was the larger predator, but Finnick had fewer inhibitions. He wasn't afraid to fight dirty or use his sharp, needle-like teeth on an enemy. After deciding to call it a draw, Nick brought Finnick back home with him and the small fennec fox let Marian nurse his wounds and fuss over him, while she simultaneously scolded Nick for 'picking on Mammals smaller than him'. Finnick liked her instantly. 

From that moment on, they were partners for life and from that partnership of convenience -and necessity- Finnick had to begrudgingly admit that they had also sort of evolved into friends. 

At least, he assumed that was what it meant when Nick banged on his van the day of the press conference, all pissed off and ranting about 'never should have trusted a prey' and 'like the Scouts all over again'. That was when Finnick finally learned the real story behind Nick's sudden and inexplicable personality change back when they were nine -not that he had been particularly dyeing to know, but it was interesting backstory. 

Sighing to himself, Finnick pushed the memory out of his mind and hopped off the kitchen chair. He was having trouble coping with like after Nick.

If the little rabbit was right -and the fennec fox still hadn't decided if he was gonna believe her or not- then all this trouble with the Savages was exclusive to Zootopia. The mayor's agents couldn't possibly also be operating outside the city, right? The best thing to do would be to leave. Everything he really needed to live was in his van anyway. It wasn't like he had put down roots or anything. The only relationship he had that could be classified as 'meaningful' was with Nick and he wasn't exactly himself right now, was he. Finnick had absolutely no reason to stay and absolutely every reason to leave. 

All he needed was a little cash to help lubricate his exodus. 

That was why he was still squatting here at Nick's place. It was worlds more comfortable than his van. But more importantly than that, somewhere in this building was where Nick kept the surplus from his cut of their daily scores. Two-hundred bucks a day, every day of the year, for twenty years. Even subtracting what Nick would have to spend for his daily needs and the occasional splurge on personal pursuits, there should still be an adequate sum to get Finnick out of the city. 

If he could just find it. 

The problem was, it was impossible to find anything in this stupid house. Nick never bothered to clear out all the old crap from when his dad was still alive and running the shop. It was full of racks of twenty-year-old clothing, twenty-year-old bolts of fabric, and twenty-year-old machinery. All of it covered in twenty years worth of dust and neglect. Then again, Finnick reflected, if Nick had hidden his money in his father's shop, there would be evidence in the dust -signs that it was disturbed more recently than two decades ago. 

No, the cash had to be somewhere in the upstairs apartment. 

The fennec fox looked in Nick's bedroom first. That being the obvious place. He found four sets of identical green tropical print shirts in the closet, a collection of gaudy ties, and a moving box that looked promising -up until Finnick opened it and was disappointed to find nothing more than a kit-sized Scout uniform. 

Giving up on the closet, the small fox checked under the bed and was once again excited when he found a shoe box -Nick (like many residents of Zootopia) preferred not to wear shoes. But on closer inspection, Finnick discovered it was nothing more than his 'Lonely Bachelor Survival Kit”. Tissues, personal lubricant, and a diverse collection of magazines catering to fetishes and kinks Finnick preferred not to examine to closely. He had no idea Nick was a preysexual. That was a detail he could have done without. He pushed the box back under the bed, wishing he could unsee what he'd just seen, while also wondering if that was the thing between him and the bunny cop. He was a preysexual and she was a predaphile? Could that be why she came banging on his van looking for him? Is that why Nick agreed to help her a second time after being burned the first? Deviants didn't make sense to Finnick. 

He checked Nick's dresser next, but just found several pairs of the exact same pants. Well, that certainly explained why Nick worse the same damn thing every day. But no cash. 

Before giving up on the bedroom, Finnick tested each of the floorboards just to make sure Nicky wasn't hiding his money under the floor. Finally, he had to give up on the room and admit that if Nick was hiding his surplus cash in the house, it was not in his bedroom. 

Finnick tried the bathroom next. Obviously it wasn't in the medicine cabinet, but he check that any way. Then the cabinets under the sink. Even in the toilet tank. For all he knew Nick could have thrown his money in a double plastic bag and hidden it in the one place other Mammals would be hesitant to check. It wasn't there either. 

There was only one room left. 

John and Marian's bedroom. 

Truth be told, Finnick had never actually been in the room. He'd never even seen inside it. The door was always closed the few times Nick had invited him over. Hesitating slightly, the small fennec fox took a deep breath before turning the handle and letting himself in. 

He didn't know what he was expecting. But the room was remarkably neat. Oh, it wasn't clean. Not by any stretch of the imagination. It also sported its own later of twenty year dust. But the bed was made and the floor was clear of debris -unlike Nick's room which looked like a small hurricane had breezed through it even before Finnick tore it apart in his search. There was a bookshelf shoved against one wall displaying 'The Tale of Robin Under the Hood', and a collection of different folk myths about Robin Goodfellow. 

Finnick shook his head. If Nick hid his cash in here, there would have been signs on the dust -just like downstairs. The small fox backed out of the room and returned to the kitchen to brood. 

He glared at the embroidered portrait of Robin Goodfellow hanging in its shadowbox. Why would a Mammal even put a needlepoint in a shadowbox anyway? Embroidery was mostly flat, it could go in a normal frame. It didn't need the extra depth of a shadowbox. 

More on a whim rather than actually expecting to find anything, Finnick plucked the shadowbox off the wall and turned it over. Listing the cardboard over the of shadowbox, he was gifted with the sight of bundles of one-hundred buck bill, all arranged in neat stacks so that they'd lay even and inconspicuous inside the frame. Smiling to himself, Finnick turned the shadowbox over again, emptying it of all its contents, the pile of money -and the portrait of Goodfellow, his puckish grin staring up at the small fox.

“Don't you look so smug.” The fennec fox said to the portrait. “It was really an obvious place. You trickster gods aren't as clever as you like to think.”

The portrait did not reply, of course. It was just a bit of embroidery and, in fact, could not talk. It figured Nick would hide his emergency cash behind the image of Robin Goodfellow. He was the patron deity of foxes, con artists, and juvenile pranksters. Nick was all three of those things. Of course he would subscribe to the old superstition. 

Finnick snorted. Nick probably believed in Robin Hood, too. 

Grabbing a garbage bag from the cabinet, Finnick gathered up all the cash. He was about to leave when he paused. Looking back at the needlepoint portrait of Robin Goodfellow. It was stupid and superstitious. But he was the patron deity of foxes, con artists, and juvenile pranksters -and Finnick was all of those things. He grabbed the portrait and shoved it in the bag with the money.

Then he left. 

That was how Finnick coped with like after Nick. 

…

Nick wasn't the only one Primal gave the untested, experimental antidote to. Before he ran out of the serum, the gorilla administered doses to Renato Manchas, Barry DiCaprio, Rodrigo Colmillo, and Emmitt Otterton. 

They still hadn't deemed Nick stable enough to have his straps taken off yet, but some of the others were. Mr. Otterton was one of them. Nick smelled them before he saw the small predator passing his room -accompanied by a thick panda orderly- on a walk to help stretch his legs. Seeing the otter sparked something in Nick's memory. From the first time he tried working the case with Judy. Manches said Otterton was raving about the 'Night Howlers' and Mr. Big said he was a florist. Aside from himself, Otterton was probably the only other Mammal in the city who knew what was actually going on! -Apart from the mayor and her little gang, of course. 

Nick called to him. “Hey! Hey, Otterton! Emmitt Otterton! C'mere.”

The otter paused, glancing in the direction of Nick's room in confusion. He poked his head in the door. “I'm sorry. Do we know each other?” A pause. A frown. Then a friendly smile when comprehension finally dawned. “Oh! You're that Pawpsicle salesman. The one with the adorable little kit in the elephant costume.”

Nick found himself suppressing a grimace. It felt like forever since he'd sold that one random Pawpsicle to Otterton, and even longer still since he'd pulled a scam where it was necessary to pass Finnick off as his son. “Yeah. That's me. Listen, can we talk?” He glanced up at the orderly hovering over them. “Alone?”

The panda looked down at the fox suspiciously, crossing his bi-chromatic arms over his chest with his skepticism. 

“Oh, come on! I'm strapped down.” The fox groaned at the orderly. “What do you think I'm gonna do? Attack him with deadly sarcasm?”

Otterton gave the orderly an apologetic smile. “I'm sure he just wants to commiserate over the ordeal we've just been through. We'll be fine.”

Still skeptical, the orderly nodded. Leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. Nick could still smell the panda hovering close by and, sure enough, when he looked to the door he could see the orderly through the window, lurking just outside the door. 

Once the door was closed, Otterton looked back to him, rubbing a paw over his whiskers. “I guess you must be anxious to get back to your son. I've got a wife and two pups of my own. I don't even know how long its been since I've seen them. I hope they-”

“Shut-up for a sec.” Nick cut him off rudely. “Listen, Otterton, you're a florist, right? You know about Night Howler?”

Now it was the otter's turn to look suspiciously at the fox. His whole demeanor changing from friendly commiseration to hostile defense, and Nick found himself if the otter's instincts were also telling him to distrust every other predator in the building. That they would infringe on his territory and steal his prey. “I don't know anything about anything.”

“Cut the crap, okay.” Nick shook his head. He should have expected a reaction like this. After all, what else would a Mammal think when seeing a fox still tied up while most of the other Savage recoveries were allowed to move about? “Look, I was helping the ZPD officer that was working your case. Manches said you were raving about 'Night Howlers' before you went Savage, and I know Night Howlers are a toxic flower that can make Mammals go crazy. The officer and I had just busted open the bad guys drug lab before I- before I-”

Before he got shot, went Savage, and killed Judy. Nick found he couldn't finish that sentence. In fact, he found himself struggling to keep the contents of his stomach in his stomach. 

“Then its over.” Otterton breathed in relief.

Nick avoided his eyes. Truth be told, he didn't really know much beyond what was talked about here on the ward and that was just snippets overheard since no one would tell him anything directly. Not even what happened to Hopps. Although the fact that they weren't telling him anything about her at all spoke volumes. But the plain and simple truth was that if the crisis really was over, then there wouldn't have been any other Savages since him, but when Nick woke up, there was a brand new tiger on the ward -one of Gazelle's background dancers. Clearly, Bellwether was making good on her promise to 'dart every predator in Zootopia'. 

The only thing Nick could do now was finish what she started -what Judy started. To atone for the life that he took and make sure that she didn't die in vain. Maybe by continuing her work and doing honor to her memory he could cope with the guilt of what he'd done to her. “If it was really over, we wouldn't have Stripes sobbing down the hall. Clearly, the ones causing this aren't done.” 

The suspicion was back on Otteton's face. He rubbed his whiskers again in nervousness. “So what do you want from me?”

“You and I are the only two who actually know what's really going on.” He explained. “We have to go to the Chief of Police. Bogo. He's a stubborn bull, but he's not dirty. He didn't care that it might have been career-suicide when he arrested Lionheart.”

“The mayor's in jail!” Otterton's eyes went wide. Apparently, no one had bothered to share that little nugget with him since his miraculous recovery. 

“Stay focused here, Whiskers.” Nick growled. His eyes flicked to the collar around the otter's neck. Nick tugged on a wrist strap and pointed to his own collar. “Thanks to all the Savage outbreaks, we got slapped with these. Do you think the new mayor is gonna stop there? No. The one who's doing this wants more power and control than just a few shock-collars. What do you think they'll do if we don't expose them?I already know Chief Buffalobutt doesn't trust me, but you he will trust. We have to stop this. Think about your pups.”

At that last line, the defensiveness was back. “I am thinking about my pups! The last time I decided to tell someone what I knew, I was shot with the toxin on my way to see him!”

Nick's eyes narrowed. “You were gonna tell Mr. Big.”

The otter looked startled, but quickly covered it up with an almost believable veneer of ignorance. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I assume you saw Renato Manches here too.” Continued the fox. “I was there when they darted him. They got him because you told him about the Night Howlers. What about if they decide you might have told your wife?”

“All the more reason I should keep my mouth shut!” Otterton snarled. “And if you care about your son, you should too!” Then, in a quieter, more conspiratory tone, he added, “What do you think they'll do to us -knowing what we know- when they hear we're shaking off the toxin?”


	12. ...And Sometimes Things Come Together

Nick's apartment was in the Downtown District. That meant that Finnick had to cross half the city on his way out. As a predator, he was required to stop and show his ID at every wall or border between districts. The city insisted on tracking predators' movements and habits -for public safety, of course. It was slow and annoying and the fennec fox hated every moment of it. 

Luckily, the money he took from Nick's place managed to help move things along at bit. 

He was heading north, through Tundra Town, on his way to the Timberland district and finally out of Zootopia city limits when it happened. 

Finnick had just passed the checkpoint that divided the Downtown District from Tundra Town. He came out of the underpass below the train and was contemplating grabbing something to eat at the Fish Market before leaving when two dall sheep dashed across the right in front of him and the diminutive fox had to slam on the breaks hard to avoid hitting them. But it wasn't just the dall, moose, caribou, ermine, and arctic hare. It seemed like every Mammal pedestrian suddenly decided all at once to stampede across the street. All screaming nonsense. 

“...he's gone Savage!”

“Its another one!”

“I thought the collars were supposed to stop this!”

“What is wrong with preds!?”

That was when Finnick saw the polar bear currently struggling with four ZPD officers. Two of them polar bears themselves. 

After speaking with Nick's bunny, now Finnick knew what to look for, and sure enough, when the fennec fox took off his aviator shades and peered at the polar bear critically he saw a bluish-purple stain on the back of the bear's neck. He had been darted with Night Howler. Shifting his focus, Finnick scanned nearby buildings. Looking for open windows or unobstructed roof tops. To his surprise, he saw a sheep disassembling what looked like a very odd sniper rifle. 

Finnick looked at the road ahead of him -currently blocked by scared pedestrians- it was the road to the Timberland district and his way out of town. Then he looked back at the building he saw the sheep on top of. Back at his way out of town. Back at the building. Back at his way out. Back at the building. 

A truck pulled out of a side ally that bordered the building -the same sheep driving. It was white, with some kind of logo on it. Without meaning to, Finnick memorized what it looked like. He was to far to see its license plate, but then, he didn't need that. He wasn't going to follow it. He was getting the hell out of Dodge. Leaving Zootopia. It wasn't his problem anymore. It wasn't his problem. Not his problem. Not his... oh, who was he kidding? 

Finnick kicked the van into reverse, check all his mirrors to make sure he wasn't going to run over any gawking pedestrians, and turned around to follow the truck. 

He wasn't doing this for the stupid bunny. He was doing this for himself. Because he was a predator and these guys were targeting predators. And maybe a little bit to get some version of justice for Nick. Even if the idealistic, obnoxious, do-gooding moron got himself darted and had no one to blame but himself and his stupid bunny. They had still been partners for two decades, so there was a bit of personal satisfaction to be had. 

The truck had a considerable head start over Finnick, but he saw that it was heading into the Rainforest District, so he merged into the predator checkpoint lane and pulled another one-hundred buck bill from his garbage bag of cash. The action caused the portrait of Goodfellow to shift so that the image grinned up at him.

“Don't look at me like that.” The fox growled at the inanimate needlepoint. “I ain't no Robin Hood.”

He was stopped just before entering the tunnel that divided Tundra Town from the Rainforest District. Finnick slid over his ID along with a folded up one-hundred buck bill. The reindeer looked at the bill before just barely glancing at the fox's ID. “Move along, Mr. Smith.”

Finnick's surname was actually 'Lister'. 

He passed through the tunnel and into the Rainforest District. A bright yellow sign warning him to drive safely because the roads were wet. The roads were always wet in this part of town. He cast his eyes around for the sheep's white truck, but it was harder to track something by line of sight in this area. The roads curved and twisted in odd ways, obscuring view. Even when they were straight there was overgrowth hanging that could also block line of sight. 

Hanging his head out the window, Finnick sniffed the air, searching for a hint of sheep. North country cheviot sheep usually preferred the more agreeable climates of the Savanah and Timberland districts. It was rare to find one in a place as hot and humid as the Rainforest. It was a safe bet that if Finnick smelled a ship, it would be the one he was following. 

Finnick followed the scent of sheep down to the lower levels of the forest until he found himself driving right through the mud. Rather than doing damage to his undercarriage, the fennec fox pulled into the hollow between two trees, cut the engine, and continued on foot. 

Sniffing the air, he followed the scent of sheep to what looked like it might have at one time been a restaurant. But with how overgrown the building was, it was hard to tell. All Finnick really saw for real was door between the vines. 

Not wanting to walk right up to the front door, the small fennec fox instead climbed up the vines and roots covering the building until he found a gap in the roof he could look down through. Peering inside, the first thing he noticed was the the lighting was weird. Strangely purple. Then he noticed the grow-lamps suspended over rows and rows of planter boxes full of dark blue flowers. Those must be the 'Night Howlers' the damn rabbit had been talking about. The stuff that was making everyone go crazy and tearing the city apart. The stuff that made Nick go crazy. 

Realizing that this must be the base of operations for the conspiracy, Finnick suddenly felt his nerves kick in. Every instinct he had as both a con artist and a small predator flared to life warning him of danger. He was in hostile territory, literally standing right on top of the hostile party's den. Finnick rolled over on his back -away from the gap in the roof- and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Then clapped a paw over his muzzle when his own breathing sounded to loud to his ears. 

“That didn't take long.” Said a voice from inside the building. 

Finnick rolled back over to peer inside once again. He saw two sheep. The one from Tundra Town, carrying a silver case that had to be the sniper rifle. The other wearing an apron and a gas mask, he had to be the supplier. 

“It was an easy shot.” The one carrying the rifle set the case down with an unconcerned shrug. 

“She called while you were out.” Said the one with the gas mask.

Finnick wasn't exactly sure who 'she' was. But given what the bunny had told him, 'she' was probably Mayor Bellwether. If she was calling the sniper that was darting predators then did that mean she already had another target for them? 

“She got an update from Fleechovits at the hospital.” Explained the one in the mask. “She says that -according to him- some of the preds you darted are waking up. Shaking off the serum.” A pause. “Preds like the otter florist... and the bunny cop's pet fox.”

Finnick stifled a gasp and rolled back over away from his peep hole. The 'bunny cop's pet fox', that had to be Nick! Nick was shaking off the Night Howler! Nick was coming back to himself! Now Finnick knew why he didn't just leave like he planned, why he followed the sheep when he knew it wasn't a good idea. It was so he could learn that Nick was becoming Nick again. That he might actually be worth busting out. 

There was a beat of silence in the drug lab and Finnick experienced a moment of panic as he wondered if they'd heard him. 

Then, “So what does she want us to do about it?”

This time, Finnick didn't roll over to watch them. He just laid there on the roof, listening. 

“She just said 'take care of it'.” He heard the other sheep supply. “She was non-specific as to how. Just pointed out that 'accidents' could sometimes happen around Savages. It would be a real shame if a terrible accident were to happen at the hospital where they're being held. The kind of accident that would be hard to evacuate them from. A couple of them might even die.”

“You're starting to sound like her.”

Finnick stopped listening. He was have a mild panic attack. The warning light on his collar glowing yellow. They were going to kill Nick. They were going to kill all of them. He'd just learned that his partner was coming back to himself and they were going to kill him. Finnick had to break him out. He had to break him out fast. Soon. Now! Except, he didn't have any time to case the place, set up an ID and cover. It would have been hard enough to do even if he had a partner, but Finnick was working alone now. 

Loath though he was to admit it, he needed the bunny. 

Taking a slow quiet breath to steady his nerves, and trying to move as quietly as he possibly could, Finnick climbed back down to the street. He called on all his ancient ancestors and whatever predatory stalking abilities they might have passed down to him to keep his movements controlled, purposeful, and silent. Lest the sheep inside the building heard him, rushed out and shot him, or worse, darted him with Night Howler. His paused hit the mud with a SQUSH that sounded loud to his own ears and he froze for a moment, listening. Waiting to be ambushed. When nothing happened, he sprinted back to his van.

How was he even going to find Nick's bunny?

Finnick sat behind the wheel, unmoving. He drumming his fingers on the dash. Every single time he'd seen the obnoxious bunny cop she had been the one to find him. But Finnick couldn't afford to wait around for her to decide she could try and con him again. Nick couldn't afford to wait. So, how was he gonna find her?

She was supposed to be dead, so it wasn't like he could just walk into the ZPD and demand to speak to Officer Toot-toot. 

Nick knew everyone in Zootopia, but Nick was not in a position to help at the moment. That left Finnick with only one option. He would have to enlist the help of the only other Mammal who knew the streets as well as he and Nick did. 

…

Duke Weaselton stopped short, just barely managing to avoid walking into the baseball bad that was shoved upwards at his face. If he'd kept walking it would have bashed right into his chin. The weasel blinked curiously at the lines in the wood from a moment before refocusing his eyes and staring down the shaft at the Mammal that held it. 

“Well, if it ain't Widdle Little Finny.” He sneered at the fennec fox. “How's the Pawpsicle business goin' without your boyfriend?”

“Badly.” The smaller predator deadpanned. “I need your help.”

“Forget it. I ain't no ice cream Mammal.” The weasel spit out the toothpick he'd been chewing on and pulled a fresh one from somewhere. He tried to brush past the small fox, but paused again when the bat was shoved back in his face. “C'mon, man, what do ya want from me?”

“After Nicky and then me, no one knows these streets better than you.” Finnick admitted -begrudgingly. He did not like dishing out praise and complements casually. 

“Damn.” The weasel blinked down at him in mild disbelief. Then he grinned, suddenly feeling important and powerful. “Whatever this is, you must be desperate.”

Finnick bit the inside of his cheek. He did not like that grin on the weasel's face. Now, no matter how he asked, Weaselton was going to wring hm until he got an absurd payment for his information -which may or may not even be accurate. The fennec fox considered the bag of cash he'd taken from Nick's apartment and measured it against Nick himself. Which was more important to him? The money or his former partner? 

If he was smart, he would just cut his losses, take the money and run. Let Nick and the Savages figure out their own way out of whatever 'accident' the sheep conspiracy had in store for them. 

Finnick was disturbed to discover, however, that he was not smart. 

“I need to find Nicky's bunny.” A pause. Did the weasel even know she was still alive? He hadn't heard any whispers or seen indication that she was alive until her little cotton-tail showed up in the ally behind Nick's place. “She's alive, by the way. Apparently, even when Savage, the loser is to fond of her little round fluff-butt to eat her.” Another pause. “Unless by 'eat' you mean-”

“Oh, hell no!” The weasel cut him off. Throwing up his arms in a gesture that could only be interpreted as 'defeat'. The warning light on his collar shifting from green to yellow. “No, no, no, no! I ain't crossin' no undead rabbit. I ain't getting' iced.”

“Iced?” Finnick blinked up at the other predator. Of all the thing he expected to come out of the weasel's mouth, that had not even been on the list. It wasn't even near the list. The only Mammal in Zootopia Finnick could think of that 'iced' those that crossed him was the crime lord, kingpin, and mafia boss known only as 'Mr. Big'. But... the bunny couldn't be working with Mr. Big. She was far to set in her conventional views of morality and justice. Weaselton must be mistaken. Or else thinking of a different rabbit? “How many bunnies does Nick have?”

“Ya mean there's more than Flopsy the Copsy?” Weaselton was horrified. 

“I'm asking you, dumbtail!” Finnick snarled. He sighed, deciding this like of questioning was getting him no where and they'd wasted enough time already. “I need to find Nick's bunny cop. I don't remember her name. She's the only bunny cop in Zootopia, can't be that hard to remember.”

Weaselton paused, giving Finnick a measured, calculating look. “You find her, and her Big friend ain't happy, it don't get back to me. Okay. I don't know where she is. Only where she might be.”

“Good enough.”

…

Judy hopped onto the desk and sat crosslegged next to Mr. Big's chair. She leaned forward to examine the map of the city Koslov had provided for her. After learning of the fact that Bellwether and her conspiracy must have rebuilt their drug lab to cure and refine Night Howler, Mr. Big decided it was in his organization's best interest to find it and put a stop to it. The majority of his hired muscle was predator. He couldn't let these sheep run around his city darting predators willy-nilly. 

It was bad for business. 

“Nick and I originally found the first lab here.” Judy pointed to a point on the map. “And then I had the fantastic idea to steal it and crash it here.” She pointed to a juncture of the rail tracks a bit of a ways to the east. “She'd probably wanna set it up as far away from the original lab as possible -to avoid a connection.”

“But they would also want it somewhere well traveled.” Koslov added. “Somewhere that wouldn't appear suspicious if Mammals were suddenly coming or going from it regularly. Also they would need to reach their targets easily.” 

Mr. Big waved a dismissive paw at that last part. “The city's transportation systems are to good. A Mammal could travel from one end of the city to the other in a matter of hours.”

Judy had to admit that was true. When she first moved to Zootopia, she left Bunnyburrow in the early morning train. Entering the city from Sahara Square, she passed through Tundra Town, Rainforest District, and disembarked in Savanah Central just a little bit after noon -and that was coming from over two-hundred miles out of town. She could only imagine how fast it would be just traveling within the city itself. Judy considered the first thing Koslov said, a place where a lot of hoof traffic -both coming and going- wouldn't be noticed. 

She was about to suggest Happytown, but thought better of it. To many predators. Bellwether wouldn't wet up her operations there. Tundra Town was out too. Mr. Big would have heard something about it if it was going on in his town -under his very nose. The ruled out two more locations. 

Their closed-door meeting was interrupted when Raymond walked in without knocking. 

“I said we were not to be disturbed.” Mr. Big fixed a squinty-eyed glare at the polar bear. 

“Sorry, boss.” And the large arctic predator looked more scared than apologetic. “But there's a fox at the gate who wants to see you. Won't take no for an answer and is being very pushy about it. He already bit Kevin once, and swiped at me with a bat.” A snort. “Socked himself like three times for it.”

“Is he Savage?” All three asked at once. That was the first question on anyone's lips these days. When speaking about an aggressive predator, never mind a predator that was actually biting other Mammals. It wasn't 'what does he want?' or 'why would he?', no. Now, everyone's mind instantly jumped to 'they must be Savage!' -even the 'good guys'. 

“No.” Raymond assured them. “Just foul mouthed.”

“He bit Kevin.” It was pitched like a question, but Mr. Big's air of authority made it sound like a statement. “You have my permission to ice him.”

Raymond nodded, a look of satisfaction on his face. He turned, about to leave when Judy stopped him. 

“Wait.” She hopped down off the desk. “What kind of fox is he?”

“I donno.” He shrugged. He was about to add that all small predators looked the same to him, but thought better of it. It might not be the best idea to mention. Instead, he tried to summon up a description. “Small. Sandy colored fur. Big ears. At first I thought he was someone's kit that got lost.”

“Finnick!” Judy announced. 

Maybe there were other fennec foxes in Zootopia who carried baseball bats, had bad attitudes, and were easily mistaken for kits. But none of them would have a reason to knock down Mr. Big's door. Finnick, on the other paw, would have a reason. Her. She asked him to help find the Night Howler lab and he refused, but he must have reconsidered. Maybe he'd already found it! Judy was so happy, she was ready to skip right out to the front gate and speak to him directly. But after her little stunt rushing out the night of the concert attack, Mr. Big was keeping her on a shorter leash. 

(He said she was worse than Fru-fru when she was a teenager. The crime boss meant it to be scathing, but Judy chose to interpret it as that Mr. Big saw her as another daughter.)

“Let him in.” Then remembered her manners. “Please, let him in, Raymond. He's Nick's friend. He's looking for me. I asked him to help find the Night Howler lab.”

The polar bear looked dissapointed. He must have really wanted to ice the obnoxious little fox. Finnick's charming personality at work. Judy shook her head. Nick must have an incredible constitution to be friends with him. Then again, she wasn't exactly easy to be friends with either and he seemed rather fond of her as well -up until she got him darted by Bellwether and he went crazy. She tried to push that thought from her mind. The sooner they found the new drug lab, exposed Bellwether, and put a stop to all of this, the sooner she could help Nick. 

That was really all that mattered to her now it seemed. Not the city. Not the innocent Mammals that were being hurt. Just Nick. 

She wondered what had changed and when. Judy Hopps had never been so selfish before. 

It didn't take long for Finnick to appear. He was escorted in by Raymond and Kevin -the latter of whom was holding his forearm in pain. 

Judy pounced on Finnick the moment he entered, whisking the smaller Mammal up in an enthusiastic hug. “You changed your mind!”

“Get off. Get off!” The small fox pushed her away, snarling. If he didn't like Nicky giving him a light peck on the forehead as part of their cover for a con, he sure as heck wasn't gonna let some dumb bunny he didn't even like press their bodies together. Finnick didn't like being touched. A preference he developed very early on before he even ran away from his foster parents. “Hug me again and I'll bit your face off.”

It was supposed to be a very intimidating threat. But it reminded Judy to much when she overheard him making a very similar threat to Nick and all she did was smile fondly down at him. “I'm so glad you changed your mind. We could really use your street smarts with this. We have to find their new drug lab.”

“No. You need to get Nick!” The small fox snapped at her. Her cheerful attitude and 'team spirit' irritated him. 

“Nick?” She blinked at him. “What about Nick?”

“They're gonna kill him!” Finnick announced soberly. 

Her eyes went wide with horror. “Who's gonna kill him?”

“The sheep! The sheep you told me about.” The diminutive fox growled up at her as if she was stupid and this should have been obvious. Who else in the city might have a motive to kill the Savages? “I was getting' the hell outta here when I saw one shoot some bear not far from her. I followed him to this building -looked like an illegal catnip farm but they were purple flowers.”

Her eyes went wide again, this time with joy and irritating optimism. “You found their lab! Already!”

“Rabbit, shut-up!” Finnick snarled, baring his teeth at her in frustration. The green light on his collar turning yellow. He really didn't like Nick's bunny cop. “You're not listening! They. Are. Going to. Kill! Him. I followed them to their hideout and overheard them talking about how some of the Savages are shaking off the Howler. Nick and some other guy knew the truth about what they're doing. They can't let him live! He knows to much. We need to get him out of that hospital. Now!”

And then her eyebrows came down over her wide amethyst eyes and Finnick saw the first expression on her visage that he would even begin to consider calling her 'serious face'. She turned to the shrew on the desk, Mr. Big, gowling with determination. “I have to save him.”

There was a beat of silence in which Judy wondered if the crime lord was going to forbid her from going out again. Stay inside. Stay 'dead'. Stay safe. Then, he nodded his head -a micro gesture another Mammal might have missed. “Then you have to go.”

Judy released the breath she didn't know she was holding in and turned to Finnick. “Is your van outside?”

“Yeah.” He turned to lead the bunny back out to where he'd parked just outside the property's gate. 

“Save the one you love.” Koslov told her. He probably meant it as encouragement, a vote of confidence. 

But it made Judy spin around on her heels and stare up at him. Finnick rolled his eyes and exited the room. Whatever it was the bunny was about to say in response to Nick being called 'the one she loved' he definitely didn't want to hear it. Not only were prey-predator romances gross and creepy, but they were also none of his business. If Nick wanted to be a deviant, let him be a deviant. So long as he did it away from Finnick. 

“I don't love him.” Judy informed the giant polar bear calmly, as if she were just correcting a simple misunderstanding. “He's just a good friend and its my fault he's in the situation he's in. I'm not in love with him.”

Koslov only smiled. The kind of knowing smile older Mammals like to give when they think they know more about the world and the way things are than the younger Mammals they're speaking to. The kind of smile one might use when humoring a child who hasn't quite come to a conclusion that might have otherwise been obvious to a more experienced Mammal. “Perhaps I spoke out of turn.”

For some reason, that was the thing that made Judy blush. Her ears turning a deeper shade of pink as she felt herself heat up in a way she didn't completely understand within the context of what was said. “I have to go.”

She left to follow Finnick out to his van and high tail it to the hospital -and to Nick. 

Judy was only halfway down the corridor when her keen rabbit hearing picked up Mr. Big's voice agreeing with Koslov. “She has been working uncommonly hard for this one friend. Certainly, Nicky much be an uncommon friend indeed.”

She flattened her ears behind her head, not wanting to hear their opinions about her and Nick, or their speculations about the nature of their relationship. She had more important things to worry about. Just how 'uncommon' her friendship with Nick was, wasn't even on the list. 

Exiting the estate's gate, Judy found Finnick's van easily. He was already in the driver's seat, the engine running, waiting for her. The fennec fox cast her an irritated look. “Well? Hurry the yiff up, Toot-toot!”

She nodded and hopped in the passenger seat.


	13. Let's Get Dangerous

Primal entered Nick's room. It was the first opportunity he'd had to speak to the red fox alone since giving him Silver's experimental antidote. 

Lakeson kept him strapped down even after he woke up. Not to keep him from hurting anyone, but to keep him from hurting himself. Learning that you had taken another Mammal's life was hard enough for the average person on the street to cope with. But learning that it had been a friend that you had killed would be so much worse! Lakeson was afraid he might attempt to harm himself as some sort of penance. 

But Primal was here to tell him none of that was necessary. 

“If you're here to check my blood pressure and let me use the toilet, an orderly already took care of that.” He informed the gorilla doctor upon entering the room. “As you can see, I've been securely strapped back down, because I'm so~o dangerous.”

Primal couldn't help but smile at his sarcasm and snark. He knew the casual attitude couldn't possibly be genuine given his situation, but the fact that he was able to compartmentalize enough to put up a relaxed and good humored front told the gorilla that he was rational and intelligent. Crossing the space between them, Primal unfastened the straps keeping the fox's paws bound. 

“Actually, I'm here to talk to you about Hopps.” He informed the fox. 

The first paw was unstrapped and Nick pulled away from the doctor as if he'd been burned. He scooted as far from the larger Mammal as the narrow hospital bed would allow. That casual facade of easy sarcasm cracking as he stared at the gorilla with frightened and remorse laden emerald eyes. The indicator light on his collar that had been green when Primal first entered the room was now glowing a warning yellow. “I- I killed her.”

“No.” Primal shook his head slowly. 

“I ate her!” The fox corrected then. If the gorilla wanted to be technical about it. He ate her. She was his friend. She trusted him. She wanted him as her partner. Over all the other -reputable- Mammals already on the ZPD force, she chose him. She wanted him! ...And he killed and ate her. 

'Goodbye, Nick...'

The warning light flashed red and Nick was shocked. His muscles seizing. The awkward way he was positioned when the shock hit causing him to tumble the bed -with him still tied to it by one paw- on its side. Nick lay on the floor, half pinned under the heavy hospital bed, and sobbed. “I ate her. She was my friend and I ate her.”

Empathetic heart almost breaking for the misinformed predator, Primal knelt down by the fallen bed and untied the other nylon strap keeping the fox leashed to the bed. Then he lifted the heavy weight off him. Picking the smaller Mammal up, he put the fox back on the bed to reexamine him and make sure he hadn't injured himself with that little episode. When he was satisfied that Nick was indeed fine, Primal continued. 

“Calm down. You didn't eat her.”

The fox continued to glare at him skeptically. Hugging himself with his newly freed arms. Closing his eyes, Nick shook his head. “No, I- I tasted blood. I don't remember much, but I remember that. The taste of blood in my mouth. It was so thick!”

At that, Primal smiled a gentle smile and bent down to pick up his medical chart that had fallen from his holder on the foot of the bed. Flipping to the oldest page -from when the fox was first admitted to the Savage ward- Primal pointed to Lakeson's hastily scribbled and difficult to read notes. “That was your own blood you were tasting. Apparently, during the struggle, you somehow managed to bite your own tongue and the inside of your cheek.”

Nick looked at the chart. Taking the clipboard from the gorilla, he stared at the messy scrawl. Doctors' hand writing. Who knew what it really said. For all Nick knew, it might actually say that the blood on his face tested positive as Leporidae (bunny) and the gorilla was just lying to him to make him feel better for unclear motives. It was nice to think he might not have eaten her -that he might not have killed her at all, and Nick wanted to believe. But then... 

But then he remembered her panicked voice. 'Nick, fight it, please!' Her wide amethyst eyes filled with terror. The scent of her blood from the wound on her leg -and Nick knew that was definitely her blood he smelled, not his own. The scent of her fear. Pungent. Inviting. Tempting. Making him hungry. Making him want her. His prey. His! 'Goodbye, Nick...'

The fox just shook his head and sniffed, stifling a sob. 

“Listen to me, Nick,” Primal placed a hand-like paw on his shoulder, “you did not-”

But the fox sat up straight suddenly, placing one of his own paws over the gorilla's mouth, silencing him. Nick raised his snout, sniffing again. Only this time, it wasn't the sniffle of someone trying not to cry. This time, when he sniffed, the fox was testing the air. Trying to smell something the other Mammal could not detect. 

“Do you smell that?” He asked, already knowing the answer was 'no'. It hadn't taken Nick long to realize that his sense of smell had improved exponentially since returning to himself. He could smell things the doctors and orderlies could not. It was a little overwhelming, and he didn't like to consider if it also meant that he might actually still be under the influence of the Night Howler a little. But he had to admit that it could be useful at times. 

“I smell nothing.” Primal informed him. He was thinking back to Silver's warning. It would make the Savages lucid, but it wasn't a complete cure. They might still carry some lasting effects to spite being returned to the civilized Mammals they once were. Putting on his calm 'bedside manner' voice, the gorilla asked, “Why don't you describe the smell to me?”

Nick sniffed the air again, thinking. 

It was like diesel, but not quite. A thick, oily scent with an uncomfortably pungent under-flavor. But they were on the second floor -a bit high for exhaust from the street to get to them, and on the opposite side of this building from the parking structure, so it couldn't be that either. Then Otterton's words flashed through Nick's mind and he knew exactly what it was he was smelling. 'What do you think they'll do to us -knowing what we know- when they hear we're shaking off the toxin?' It was the scent of tying up loose ends! 

“Kerosene!” Nick shot to his feet. 

Primal blinked, startled by the fox's sudden outburst. 

“I have to get to Otterton.” Nick made a break for the door. “I gotta get him outta here.” 

“Hang on, what's going on?” The gorilla stopped him at the door before the fox could go rushing off into the corridor and startling the other patients -most of whom were still Savage and easily excitable. 

Nick glared at him, the beginnings of a feral growl forming in the back of his throat and Primal had to once again remind himself that Silver warned him the antidote wasn't a complete cure. They would be lucid, but might still retain a handful of Savage traits. The gorilla wasn't sure just how much he could place himself at odds with the small predator before his baser instincts told him to reassert dominance. 

“Don't you get it?” The fox snarled. Not just bit out the words hostilely, but actually accompanied them with a display of sharp teeth and a drip of saliva. An actual snarl. “Do you actually think predators are just waking up one morning and deciding 'hey, I'm gonna go crazy and kill my neighbors'? No! Someone is making them change and Otterton and I know who and how!” He sniffed the air again. “And now that we're sane again, they can't let us go. They're tying up loose ends and Otterton and I are the loose ends. I have to get him out of here!”

That was one consequence of finding an antidote for the Night Howler that Primal had not considered. 

He took his hand off the door and let the fox out. 

Once out in the corridor, the gorilla could smell the pungent and acrid scent of kerosene. Like diesel's immature and equally volatile cousin. The fox had a good nose to smell it from all the way down the hall and through a closed door. Primal knew canids were supposed to have very good senses of smell, but were they normally that good?

“Get Otterton.” The gorilla said -the fox did not need to be told. “I'll try and see what's going on.”

“Bad idea.” Nick told him. When Primal looked back at him confused, the fox explained -as if it too should have been obvious. “No witnesses.”

The gorilla gulped, realizing exactly how dangerous this mess he'd gotten himself involved in really was. And yet... “A doctor protects his patients.”

The fox shook his head. “You remind me of a Carrot I knew.”

Primal didn't know what that meant, but he didn't really have time to ask and the fox wasn't going to explain. He was already sprinting down the corridor to the otter's room. Primal followed his example, jogging in the opposite direction to the reception desk by the elevators, right when a person first entered the ward. 

That was where Primal found them. Two rams he didn't recognize. Each holding a canister with a mundane and innocent looking label. Fabric softener and Costco sized apple juice. But what was spilling out of said canisters was most definitely not the fluids promised by the innocent and unassuming labels. What actually spilled from the open cans was transparent, slightly reddish, and stank of gas. 

“What the hell!?” Primal exclaimed. 

“Damn. I thought all the doctors had gone home.” One of the rams muttered. As if Primal's presence was nothing more than an unfortunate irritation. He reached behind his back, into the waistband of his pants and withdrew a pistol. A G43 single stack 9mm. Not the kind of cheap revolver someone could get off the street if you knew where to go, but a business side-arm. Ex-military kind of weaponry. “You wanna leave and forget you ever saw us.”

Eyes focused on the barrel of the gun that was pointed at him, Primal suddenly remembered that he had to breath. Taking in a deep breath -and filling his lungs with the scent of kerosene- he shifted his gaze to the other two. They were splashing the gas on the files primarily. The records of the Savages care, and the knowledge that some of them had returned to sanity. One of the sheep left the reception desk, trailing kerosene down the corridor behind him. 

When his tank was empty, he pulled a military issue ka-bar from his pocket. “Hey, Doug, which room was the fox supposed to be in again?”

“You're here to kill the ones that are sane again.” It wasn't a question. Primal didn't know what the hell he was doing. A smart Mammal with a healthy sense of self preservation would have done as the one pointing the gun at him -Doug- told him to do. He would have left. But Primal was a bleeding heart first, and a mob doctor second. He put a higher value on others lives before his own, and he was no stranger to having guns shoved in his face. 

“What would you know about it?” Doug asked. 

“Seems like a terrible bit of escalation, if you ask me.” The gorilla informed him. “Now, I don't know what's going on, but it seems to me that you guys are spiraling and you'll eventually lose control.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

From down the corridor, the ram with the knife called, “The fox isn't in his room and the door's wide open!”

Doug peered around Primal to look at his friend down the corridor. “He can't have left the ward. They've got bars on all the windows. Get the otter and the fire will take care of the rest.”

“See?” And Primal could not help the grin that stretched over his lips. “Already losing control. If you have to set a fire to cover something up, then what are you going to do to cover up the fire? Spiraling.”

Emmitt Otterton was surprised when the fox from down the hall burst into his room. As far as the otter knew, the other predator was still being kept restrained for his own protection as he'd killed a friend of his when he went Savage and was a self-harm risk. He didn't look like self-harm was on his mind, however, when he threw open the door and growled for Otterton to get out of bed. 

“Get up!” Nick snapped. “We're getting out of here. Now!”

Emmitt was confused and moved slowly, not understanding what was going on or why the fox seemed so agitated. But he didn't get the chance to ask because at that moment, they heard a rough and unfamiliar voice shout in the hall way. 

“The fox isn't in his room and the door's wide open!”

The fox grabbed the otter, pulling him out of bed to hide behind it. One clawed paw clasped over the other predator's mouth to keep him quiet. That was when Otterton realized what was going on. He was right. He had a bad feeling something like this would happen. After all, if they darted him because he knew about Night Howler, and they darted Manches because he told the cat, and they darted the fox because he was investigating... And now all three of them were coming back to their senses... Clearly just darting them with toxin wouldn't be a solution this time. The ones who were doing this needed a more permanent end to their information leak. 

“He can't have left the ward. They've got bars on all the windows. Get the otter and the fire will take care of the rest.”

A 'more permanent solution' being death. Death by fire, apparently. 

The silhouette of a sheep entered the doorway and flicked the light on. Otterton wasn't aware he was hissing until the sheep came around the bed and glared down at them. A long knife clutched in his hoof. “I found them!”

Death by fire and stabbing.

Otterton's fur stood on end, sensing the danger. His back arching as his hissing grew louder. The fox holding him also started growling threateningly. Both predator's instincts telling them to try and intimidate the enemy in front of them into going away. ..and if that didn't work, their bodies moved to spring into attack. 

“Hmph.” Snorted the sheep. “Was told you were civilized again. But look like you're still just a pair of dumb Savage animals.”

“I'll show you 'Savage'!” The fox snarled as he jumped at the sheep. Claws out. Jaws wide. Teeth sharp. Saliva dripping. 

The sheep threw up one arm to block the smaller Mammal's attack. The fox dug his fangs into the arm and bit down hard, flooding his mouth with warm fresh blood, the flavor sending Nick back to the night at the museum. 'Goodbye, Nick...' Carrot's terrified amethyst eyes staring at him. The fox let go almost as soon as his teeth tore into the flesh. He backed up, fighting his instincts urging him forward, telling him to continue the attack. The sheep was wounded now. It would be delicious. But Carrot's panic's voice also rang through his head. 'Nick, fight it, please!' Two conflicting impulses battling inside him, the fox backed up, one paw to his head. 

The sheep clutched his injured arm. “Son of a bitch!”

“Son of a vixen!” The fox corrected, one paw still clutching his forehead. He placed himself between the sheep and Otterton. 

Tearing a piece of his sleeve, the sheep wrapped it around his bleeding arm as a makeshift bandage. A quick field dressing. “Whatever, you two being together makes things easier for me.”

He moved the knife to the injured hand and made a grab for Nick with his good arm. The fox dodged to the side, moving on all fours like an animal, but his eyes were clear and alert as he glared at the hostile intruder invading his and the otter's territory. “So, you're gonna kill us to tie up your loose ends and then cover up the murder with a fire. Classy. That's real class, Jess. Or are you Woolter? All you puffy cloud-counters look the same to me.”

“Don't be speciesist!” Otterton hissed, his knee-jerk reaction to be offended on the other Mammal's behalf. 

“Dude's here to kill us and you're worried about hurting his feelings.” The fox rolled his eyes. “I liked you better when you were hissing at Carrots and I, and hiding under furniture.”

By the reception desk, Doug kept his gun trained on the gorilla doctor. “What would you know about cover-ups?”

“Oh... more than I should if I was smart, probably.” He admitted in a moment of self deprecation. His job was to pull slugs out of Mr. Big's men and patch them back up. He did not ask about how they got shot in the first place or why they might need patching up. All that being said, that didn't mean he did read the paper and wasn't able to put two and two together and get at least a facsimile of four. So, yes, Primal knew probably more than he should about underworld dealings, cover-ups, and conspiracies. 

Doug pulled back the pistol cock. “But you're not smart.”

Still forcing himself to remain calm, the gorilla heaved a sigh. “No... I'm not smart. If I was smart, I wouldn't tell you that I know all about the Night Howler or how these poor predators are just victims of some unnecessarily complicated plot to divide the species and control the city through hysteria.”

The sheep's eyes went wide that the bold and unabashed confession to knowledge of Bellwether's plot. 

“And, if I was smart, I wouldn't warn you that it does look a little suspicious.” Primal continued. “The cop that found the Savages at Cliffside suddenly gets killed by a Savage. A pop star who advocated for tolerance and understanding between predators and prey suddenly gets attacked by a Savage. And then, not even a week later, a fire inexplicably breaks out in the Savage ward of the hospital -killing everyone, I assume. Suspicious. Like I said, you're spiraling.”

“I'm not the boss.” Doug announced. 

“No. You strike me more as a soldier with a chip on his shoulder.” Primal agreed. “What was it? Iberia? Latran? You look a bit young for Desert Squall. You loose somebody to a predator?” 

For the first time, Doug's hoof shook holding the gun. “Shut up! You have no idea what you're talking about!”

Again, the gorilla sighed. “No. I really, really don't. If I knew what I was talking about and it I was smart, I would have taken you up on your offer to get out of here and forget I saw anything, instead of standing here stalling.”

“Stalling?” The ram blinked at the other Mammal. 

There was a beat of silence. 

In the movies this was always the part where the hero's back-up popped up out of no where to save the day. 

Nothing happened. 

Keeping the gun pointed at the doctor, Doug chanced a glance behind him. There was no one and nothing there. The 'stalling' comment was nothing more than a bluff. A vain and ultimatly pointless attempt to rattle his nerves. 

Primal took his momentary distraction for the opportunity it was. Closing the distance between them and bending low to get under the gun's range. He swiped up with one hand, knocking the firearm out of the sheep's hoof, and with the other he pushed Doug back. The sheep stumbled for a few moments before correcting himself. He no longer had a weapon, but he was by no means helpless. 

Bending his head down, he charged at the gorilla.

Jumping onto the reception desk, Primal just barely managed to get out of the way before he was gored by one very pissed-off ram. Kneeling on the reception desk, the gorilla reprimanded himself. “I really am not smart.”

His momentum carrying him down the corridor, Doug tried to stop himself but slipped on the kerosene Jess had drizzled over the floor. He fell and continued to coast on his tail until he slammed into a door that had been left open. 

The commotion distracted the ram looming over Nick and Otterton enough for the fox to make a hasty escape. The two smaller Mammals squeezing their exit through the larger sheep's legs. 

“Duck and roll!” Nick commanded the otter, giving him a not-so-gentle shove of encouragement before he himself did the same. 

Out in the corridor, they made a b-line for the reception desk. 

“Did a fox just tell me to do a barrel roll?” Otterton asked.

“Not now, Whiskers!” Nick snarled. 

Primal climbed down off the reception desk. He regraded the two smaller Mammals, seeing that they were alright. Nick dashed to the elevators. But Otteton stopped him. 

“Wait, what about the others?”

The fox paused, his paw just hovering over the down button. He stared back at the otter as if he'd just asked the most absurd thing ever. “What about the others?”

Otterton looked back down the corridor at the rams that were quickly recovering and coming back for them. “They're planning to burn the place down and all the windows have bars, and some of their doors are locked. We can't leave them. They'll die.”

For half a moment, Nick was about the say that the others didn't matter. He and Otterton were the ones that knew what was going on, they were the important ones that had to get out and live. Get to the ZPD. Find Chief Bogo. Expose Bellwether's conspiracy. That was what they needed to do. But then a little voice in the back of his head, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Carrots told him that, that wasn't the right thing to do. That he shouldn't be just another shifty fox only looking out for number one. Be more than himself. Save the other Savages. Become a hero! 

Just like she had risen above the convention of an average bunny and become something extraordinary. 

Suppressing a growl, the fox moved away from the elevator. It was Primal he was looking at when he finally said, “Fine. You get Otterton out of here. I'll take care of the others.”

The gorilla gave a grim nod, and picked up the otter, throwing the smaller Mammal over his shoulder. He took the stairs instead of the elevator. Just in case the worst should happen in the middle of the inevitable struggle and the kerosene all over the floor was ignited. He did not want to be trapped in an elevator in the middle of a fire. 

…

The van pulled in front of the hospital's main entrance with a screech of tires. A parking guard came up to yell at them. He was an irritated looking goat and neither Finnick nor Judy had the patients to deal with him. The bunny jumped out of the passenger seat. 

“I'll find Nick.” She called without pausing, running right up to the automatic door and ignoring the warnings that were being called at her not to run and that visiting hours were over. She slammed her paw down on the elevator button, thumping her foot rapidly with impatience. After only a few seconds, Judy decided the lift was taking to long and she dashed for the stairs instead. 

Wrenching open the access door, the rabbit stopped short when she found herself face to knee with another Mammal. Looking up, she saw Dr. Primal staring down at her, looking just as startled as she was. Over his shoulder was another small Mammal and after another moment's scrutiny, she realized it was Emmitt Otterton. Primal was rescuing Otterton -but not Nick?

“Where's Nick?” She demanded. 

“Still upstairs.” The gorilla supplied. “Being a hero. He's trying to rescue the rest of the Savages. Your sheep conspirators are here too.”

He left Nick upstairs, alone, with larger Mammals (medium sized Mammals) that wanted to kill him! Judy didn't have time to scold the gorilla. She dashed up the stairs to save her fox, pausing only long enough to shout down the shaft, “My friend's parked outside. Big van, borderline-porno fantasy art on the side. Can't miss it. Wait with him for Nick and I!”

She didn't wait to see if they heard her or if they were going to follow her instructions. Judy was already up the stairs. She kicked open the door and ran into the Savage ward, almost slipping on something viscous and foul smelling on the floor. She looked down.

“Gas.”

Then looked back up when she heard the unmistakable sounds of a struggle. 

Down the corridor, a red fox wearing white hospital-issue pajamas was on all fours jumping and dodging two sheep, trying to get around them. Nick, struggling with Doug and Jess. 

She rushed into the fray, practically scatting down the hall her paws were so slippery from the kerosene. When she got close enough, she jumped and landed a two foot kick to Jess' mid-section. The ram stumbled backwards into his partner, putting enough space between themselves and Judy and Nick for the rabbit to look towards the fox. Really look at him. 

He was on all fours, and his teeth were bared. At first glance he looked Savage. But there was no saliva dripping from his jaws and his eyes were clear. Judy breathed a sigh of relief. Releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding in. 

“Nick...”

The fox blinked. Paused. Taking his eyes off the enemy for a moment, he looked at her. Really looked at her. 

And froze. “C-Carrots? But... but I -I killed you.”

Judy couldn't help it. The sly smirk that pulled at her lips. It just sort of happened. Too cool for school Nick Wilde dumbstruck and disbelieving. Mouth gaping open. Eyes glistening with -were those unshed tears? Was he gonna cry? Now that smirk was a full on grin.

“I got better.”

“You got-” He choked. Arms surging forward, the fox swept her up in a fierce hug. “You damn, damn, damn, damnably sly bunny.”

“Dumb fox.” She muttered back. Her face pressed into his shoulder. Smelling the fabric softener of the hospital shirt over a canid must that was uniquely Nick. “I missed you too. I'm glad you're not Savage anymore.”

At that comment his shoulders tensed, and Judy wondered what it was she said to make him suddenly so anxious. 

“Nick...?”

He hugged her tighter. Tense shoulders almost shaking. “You smell so good, Carrots.” He muttered into her ears. And it was the first time in her life she'd ever heard the word 'good' sound so much like 'delicious'. “But I can fight it. I'll fight it, Carrots. You told me to fight it, so I'll fight it.”

That was what made her pull away. Looking at him again. Really studying him. Scrutinizing him. His eyes were clear. Not the uncomfortably large, dilated pupils from before. From back at the museum when he really was truly Savage and trying to kill and eat her. His grip on her shoulders was tight. Uncomfortably so. And maybe his claws were digging into her fur a little bit. But not hard enough to pierce the skin. He was not hurting her. 

“Nick. You're not Savage.” She told him firmly. 

Those clear, intelligent, and sane eyes turned forlorn and apprehensive. “You don't know. You don't know what's going on... inside...”

Placing both paws on either side of his face, Judy looked him right in the eyes and-

Something large and heavy looking went sailing over their heads. It collided with the two sheep the two smaller Mammals had seemingly forgotten, saving the pair from what would have undoubtedly been a very abrupt and anti-climactic end to their reunion -and their lives. 

Whatever Judy was about to say, it was forgotten as both fox and rabbit look up to see Finnick standing over them, hunched and a little out of breath. Having just thrown what appeared to be a hippo sized fire extinguisher. 

“Can you two do the mushy cuddling make-out session later!?” The tiny fox snarled at them. 

“That's not-” Nick began.

“We're not-” Judy insisted. 

But, really, protesting the fennec fox's interpretation of their relationship was not a priority at the moment. In fact, it shouldn't even have been on the list. They had other things to worry about than what one friend seemed to think of their unconventional but purely platonic friendship. Purely platonic. Platonic. 

“Let's get the hell out of here!” Finnick growled. “This place smells like a mushroom cloud waiting to happen.” 

“I promised I'd get the others out.” Nick told him. Climbing back to his feet, the fox reached for the nearest door to them and wrenched it open. 

Inside, a female leopard lay in bed, sedated. Primal had run out of antidote before he could get to her, she was still Savage. The medical chart at the foot of her bed proclaimed her to be Stephanie Stalkinew. Nick began unfastening her restraints and tried prodding the heavily sedated jungle cat in the hopes of waking her enough to at least get out of the bed on her own. There was no way in heck any one of them could carry a heavy jungle cat. 

“Damn the others, you mother yiffing moron!” Finnick stamped a foot, making a small splash in the kerosene puddle. “I came here to get you, you do-gooding, good for nothing, prey loving, bleeding heart, boy scout!”

Nick appeared to be ignoring him. “The main staff drug them at night before they go home to reduce the chances of problems for the night shift.” He explained. No one bothered to point out that the night shift appeared to be suspiciously absent this night. Even the security guards were missing. “She probably doesn't have the energy to attack anyone. If I can just get her out of bed, we can get her to the elevator.”

“You're yiffing insane.” Finnick shook his head. 

While at the exact same time, Judy said, “I'll start getting the others.”

She hopped across the hall to the next closest room. Jumping up slightly to reach the doorknob that was designed for medium sized Mammals like hippo, gorilla, and sheep. This time, the Mammal Judy found inside the room was not sedated. A black jaguar that she recognized almost instantly. Renato Manchas sat up in bed, staring at the open door with concern. 

“Who's there? What's going on?”

Hopping to the side of the bed where he could see her more easily, the rabbit introduced herself. “Officer Judy Hopps, ZPD. Do you remember me, Mr. Manchas?”

The jaguar looked at her critically for a moment. Trying to put a context to the name and face. Finally comprehension dawned on him. “You were the cop investigating the otter that went crazy in my livery. You wanted to talk about the Night Howlers.”

Judy nodded. She pulled over a chair so that she could hop up level with the side of the bed. Thankfully, Manchas was not restrained like Stalkinew was. Since he didn't appear to be Savage, Judy assumed the hospital staff deemed the straps unnecessary for him. She pulled on the jaguar's arm to try and get him up and moving. “We've got bigger problems that Night Howler right now, Mr. Manchas. I need you to get up.” Then a thought occurred to her. “Can you carry another jaguar?”

Realizing that the smaller Mammals were trying to rescue the other Savages, and that they probably weren't going to leave until they got them all evacuated, Doug decided to cut their losses. The whole ward was already coated with a generous splattering of the kerosene. If they threw a match as they were exiting and the fire started near the stairs -blocking the only exit- then the rest would take care of itself. The windows were all barred. They wouldn't have any other way to escape. 

Doug grabbed Jess. 

“This is more trouble than its worth.” He informed his compatriot, pulling a book of matches out of his pocket and showing it the other ram to convey his intent. “As much as I'd like to beat the crap out of that meddling fox and his little bunny too, its time to cut our losses and retreat.”

Finnick thought it was strange how easily the sheep seemed to be giving up right when Nick and his bunny cop decided to be distracted. Dashing from room to room like a pair of messiah complex vigilantes. That is, until the sheep got to the stares and the fennec fox saw one of them strike a match. 

“Yiffing hell!” 

He felt himself moving forward before his brain made the conscious decision. Honestly, Finnick didn't know what he was doing. Academically, he knew he couldn't get there in time to intercept the match and stop of inevitable firestorm. His eyes followed the small flame's decent -seemingly in slow motion- as if left the sheep's hoof, arching downward, where it landed in a puddle at the foot of the reception desk. 

Then everything went up in flames.


	14. Chase Off Into the Sunrise

Bogo stretched in his chair. He had fallen asleep at his desk again. 

This was becoming a habit. A bad habit that was decidedly hard on his back. If he wasn't going to start going home when he should, then he should start storing a cot in his office -if for no other reason than to lie to himself and say he was taking care of himself. 

Rubbing his hooves over his eyes, he looked down at the documents he'd been studying before he fell asleep. The incident reports from the death of Hopps and capture of the fox that killed her, and the raid on Cliffside. Also out on the desk were his tape recorder with his interview with Lionheart on it, and Hopps' stupid carrot shaped novelty pen. 

Picking up the evidence bag containing the pen, Bogo stared at it for a moment, wondering why he'd taken this particular item out of the evidence boxes. Could it be that he felt -in some strange way- that the pen was a sort of 'avatar' for Hopps' spirit. That if he had it out with him while he was going over the case, that her brilliant prodigy-detective skills would somehow help him solve her murder (he was calling it a murder now, in his own mind) from beyond the grave? Westley Bogo was not usually given over to such superstitious ideas. Maybe it was just that the bright colors appealed to him on a visceral level. Or, was it more likely that he just simply pulled it out of the box while looking for a document underneath it and never put it back away? The buffalo was rather sleep deprived. 

Standing, Bogo decided he needed some coffee. 

He tossed the carrot pen back on his desk where it landed on its side -right on the play button. The force of the fall pressing the button for the playback of whatever it was that was recorded on it. 

Bogo froze. 

“What are you gonna do? Kill me!” Hopps' voice asked from beyond the grave. 

“Oh no, sweetie. He is!” Answered a second voice. Also female, and sounding uncomfortably similar to the mayor's. But that was -no... She wouldn't... No... That couldn't be right.

There was a soft pop-hiss, a p'sh sound similar to that of a gun silencer. Then a soft splat. A grunt of discomfort. 

“No, Nick, fight it!” Hopps was shouting. 

Nick. That was the name of the fox that killed her. Nickolas Wilde. Bogo had snapped the muzzle over the fox's snarling jaws himself. Hopps had recommended him to the academy before -before this incident happened. They were friends before he went Savage. 

“He can't help it, Judy. Its in his nature.” The second female voice that sounded suspiciously like Dawn Bellwether taunted.

There then followed the sounds of a struggle. Shifting sand. Someone struggling to move. Something hard banging on metal. More shifting sand and movement. A grunt. The sound of something heavy impacting that metal thing again, and then a clang like something falling down a narrow shaft. A deep breath. Another grunt. A canid wine of pain. More shifting sand. Snarling and snapping.

And then the recoding cut off abruptly. The pen's short memory full. 

Bogo stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to move. Staring at the carrot on his desk. He just heard the attack on Officer Hopps -in full. 

Yes, the fox went Savage and attacked her. That everyone already knew. But the shocking thing was that -if he was interpreting the dialogue correctly- he was made to. Someone -someone who sounded suspiciously like the mayor did something to the fox that made him go Savage. The p'sh sound of a gun silencer. Someone was shooting predators with something that made them go crazy! All this chaos, all this tension, this... (for lack of a better word) Species War was being intentionally orchestrated by another Mammal.

Another Mammal who sounded uncomfortably like Dawn Bellwether. 

Scooping up the pen, Bogo rewound the recording and hit replay just to make sure he hadn't imagined it. That it wasn't the product of his over-worked and sleep deprived imagination. 

“What are you gonna do? Kill me!?”

“Oh no, sweetie. He is!”

No, Bogo definitely didn't imagine it. The fox might have been the one to deal the death blow to Officer Hopps. But he was only the instrument -the murder weapon. The actual murderer was another Mammal. A Mammal that sounded suspiciously like Mayor Bellwether. He didn't quite know what to do with this startling new revelation. 

But, as it happened, he didn't really have the time to think about this new revelation, never mind do anything about it. 

“Chief!” Muttonson burst through the door, looking startled and frantic. “Call just came in from Zootopia General. There's a fire in the Savages' ward!”

… 

The only other Savage that was recovering from the Night Howler still being kept strapped down with bed restraints was a bangle tiger by the name of Rodrigo Colmillo. The back-up dancer who went Savage in the middle of a performance, mauled Gazelle, and killed another of his fellow tigers. Like Nick, Lakeson decided he was also a self-harm risk. 

The door of his room was thrown open with a loud BANG to punctuate the action. A fox wearing identical hospital pajamas as the ones he was issued (just in a more appropriate size) rushed in. Heat surged in with him and Rod saw a background of flame and smoke behind him. 

“What's going on?” He demanded as the fox pulled on his restraints in a frantic rush to free him. 

“Sorry, Stripes, no time to explain.” The fox snapped with tense impatience. One of the nylon straps holding the tiger was unfastened, but the second was proving to be a bit more difficult and the fox gave up, dragging a claw across the fabric to cut it off instead. “Get up! We gotta get the hell outta here!”

Out in the corridor, he saw a black jaguar holding an unconscious spotted jaguar. There was a grizzly bear carrying a wolf and a panther over each shoulder. There was also a bunny, and a second -smaller- fox. The latter of whom was dragging a hippo sized fire extinguisher around, blasting fire retardant chalk ineffectively at any flames that were bold enough to draw near the group. 

“You do-gooding idiots can't save 'em all!” The little fennec fox snarled. “The gay tiger might be able to carry another one. But that'll still leave seven unconscious with no way out.” He tried blasting another puff of the fire retardant only to have the extinguisher give an impotent little cough when nothing came out. “Scratch that! We're all gonna die!”

For a moment, everyone seemed like they were going to agree with the little fox and give into despair. They were all about to die a painful and gruesome death, screaming as the flames tore through their fur, seared their flesh, and burned their lungs. Their screams turning to ash in their mouths. 

Then the rabbit -of all Mammals- grabbed the empty fire extinguisher from the fennec fox. “Don't be such a pessimist. Nick, help me with this!”

The rest of the group watched in panic's confusion as the little bunny dragged the to-large-for-her fire extinguisher into the nearest room and began trying to lift it to the window. 

Realizing what her plan must be, the red fox -Nick- rushed after her to help. He pulled a chair over to the window for her to get some height on it and together, they lifted the fire extinguisher and used it as a battering ram against the bars. 

Yes, the windows were barred. But they were barred to prevent Mammals from throwing themselves out of them. They were strong enough to prevent a bare-pawed Mammals from tampering with them. They were not designed to take a beating from a large, metal, and heavy object being bashed against it repeatedly and with the force of desperation powering it. 

“Hit the bolts where its connected to the window.” Nick told the bunny. “We need to make a hole big enough for the bear to get through.”

“Right.” She nodded. Then, to Rod whom was just watching in horror. “Tiger, if there's anyone still in their room you think you can carry, grab them! We need to save as many Mammals as we can!”

The air was quickly filling with acrid smoke and it was becoming increasingly hard to breath. Rod looked around wildly, unsure of what to do. Everyone else seemed to be doing something. The black jaguar, carrying the spotted one, the grizzly bear holding not one but two other similarly sedated Savages, the fox and the bunny -two of the three smallest Mammals present- working furiously to find them a way out and save all their lives. Rod just stood there, like a beautiful useless idiot. 

Screwing up his courage, the tiger kicked in the closes door to them was that still closed. Another wolf laid unconscious on the hospital bed. Unfastening his restraints, Rod hoisted the other predator over one shoulder and rejoined the others in the room where the fox and bunny were beating furiously on the window bars. 

The fire was primarily out in the hall. As if the floor tiles themselves were burning -probably from some spilled oil or whatever. It was spreading, but hadn't made it all the way into the rooms yet. If they actually managed to get that window cleared, they might actually have a chance at surviving this. 

With one final crash of metal on metal, one of the four bolts securing the bars to the window frame broke off. 

“Well that wasn't so hard.” The bunny reassured everyone, optimistically. 

“Yeah. Now we're only seventy-five percent gonna die.” Finnick coughed. He was a real positive Mammal.

Nick ignored them and began working on the next bold holding the bars in place. His eyes were watering and it was hard to tell if it was from the smoke or anxious tension. “Stuff it, Fin. We're gonna get out of here! Because... because I can't get Carrots killed a second time.”

“You didn't get me killed a first time.” The bunny reminded him. 

He didn't look at her, just kept hammering away at the bolt. He might not have killed her, but that didn't mean that he didn't believe he killed her. 

The second bolt came off faster than the first. Breaking one weakened the structure of the whole so that it didn't take quite as much abuse to get the second bolt off. Nick tried to lift the bars. Bending them upwards. There was no way he and Judy were going to reach the bolts on the top of the window frame. But the bars were one solid piece, if he could just bend them up enough to open the window, they'd be free. 

“Need more muscle!” The fox called, eyes darting to the grizzly bear. 

Barry DiCaprio stepped forward. He laid the two Mammals he was holding down in the floor next to the window and gripped the warm metal bars with both paws. Putting all his strength into it, he pushed up on the metal as hard as he could. The fox and the bunny adding their own strength to the effort. 

At first, nothing happened. Everyone was ready to give up and give in to despair. 

Then there was the sound of strained metal groaning and the window bars began to bend upwards. They pushed them as far up as they could. Finnick rushed forward and opened the window -flooding the room with fresh air. Oxygen. Everyone was about to breath a deep sigh of relief. Except the influx of new oxygen also rejuvenated the flames. The fire leaping up more aggressive and terrible than it was before. 

“Time to go!” Nick shouted. 

Finnick had already jumped out the window the moment he had it open. A real hero that one. 

“Anyone able to carry someone, grab them and get out!” Judy called over the roar of the fire. “We can survive this!”

DiCaprio grabbed the two he had been carrying. Lowering one down through the second floor window, then the other. Then he jumped out himself. The landing was a bit harder than he would have liked, but he made it and was alive, and that was really the important thing, after all. He reached up to get the spotted leopard Manchas was lowering out next. Then Mr. Manchas himself. Then the wolf Rod grabbed at the last minute. Then the tiger dancer was climbing out the window after him. 

Finally, Nick and Judy jumped out. A little singed around the tail and ears, but alive and together. 

Everyone who was conscious enough to appreciate what they'd just lived through all breathed one big collective sigh of relief. Enjoying the feel of clean oxygen in their lungs and quickly realizing that they'd been breathing in smoke for perhaps longer than was healthy. They all sank to the pavement in a coughing fit. Hacking and wheezing. 

“We need of get out of here.” One of them said between hacking breaths.

“I hope Finnick went to get the van and didn't just leave us.” Judy admitted as she gasped for more air. She didn't think he would, after all, he was the one to come to her in order to rescue Nick. But that didn't mean it wasn't within the realm of possibility.

“Well, knowing him,” Nick coughed and gasped, then paused to think since he actually did know his partner, “eh... its a coin toss, really.”

And then, as if on cue, the red van with its provocative fantasy mural pulled up along side them and honked its horn. 

“Get in losers!” Finnick shouted at them. 

Both back doors were thrown open and Emmitt Otterton poked his nose out. He saw the group sitting or kneeling on the pavement, some of them laying down unconscious. He didn't say anything, not out loud, but the otter's eyes locked with Nick's and they both realized that there was no way they were all going to fit in the fennec fox's van. The sedated Savages would have to be left behind -probably the bear, DiCaprio, too. Since he was so large. But at least they were alive. That was something. Right?

Everyone who was conscious climbed to their feet, the larger Mammals helping the smaller ones up. Nick was holding Judy's paw, the fox pulling the rabbit back to her feet when her long sensitive ears picked up the heart stopping sound of a gun cocking. 

“Freeze! Police!”

Somewhere in the space of a heartbeat, the paw that was holding Judy's, instead found itself wrapped protectively around her, the larger fox using his body to shield the smaller bunny from the gun that was pointed at them. That is, until they recognized the Mammal that was holding said gun. 

“Chief!” Judy wriggled out of Nick's hold.

Seeing the rabbit clearly for the first time, the water buffalo found himself suppressing a gasp, staring at the supposedly departed officer in disbelief. “Hoops!? But you're supposed to be dead.”

Of course she wasn't dead. He reprimanded himself sternly. They never retrieved a body from the scene. No body, no crime. He was the Chief of Police, he should know that already. She was alive, and -once again- she was in the company of that damn obnoxious fox! 

An obnoxious fox whom cracked a smirk at him. “Reports of her demise have been greatly exaggerated.”

The bunny gave the fox a light slap on the chest. “Nick, don't taunt my boss!”

Hopps was alive and the fox that supposedly killed her was sane. ...And back in his officer, still sealed in its evidence bag, was a pen recorder containing evidence that pointed to the mayor as the one who tried to kill Hopps and turn the fox Savage. Although the buffalo still didn't know how. Bogo lowered his weapon -but he did not return it to its holster. “I don't even know what's going on in my city anymore.”

There was a beat of silence, filled by the wail of sirens and the shouts of officers and hospital staff trying to evacuate the building quickly but orderly. For the moment, the fire was confined to one ward, but that didn't mean it wouldn't spread. 

After the moment dragged on a bit longer than was comfortable, Judy took a step forward. Nick's hand holding her paw tried to pull her back to him where it was safer, but she pulled out of his grasp. 

“Predators aren't just going Savage, Chief.” She informed the larger Mammal. “Not on their own and not for no reason. Someone is making them. Mr. Otterton-” she nodded to the otter still in the van “-knew how and was going to tell someone in a position to do something before he was turned. Nick and I-” she nodded to the obnoxious fox “-found their lab were they were making the stuff that was turning predators Savage and then they tried to take us out too. By- by turning Nick Savage so that he would attack me.”

'What are you gonna do? Kill me?'

'Oh no, sweetie. He is!'

That was certainly consistent with what Bogo had heard on her carrot pen. But the way Hopps described it, it sounded like a much lager conspiracy than just a single corrupt politician getting rid of witnesses. He looked up at the building. At the flames pouring out of the hospital windows. Bogo counted nine Savages outside. That meant there were still eight Mammals trapped up there, dying of fire, or smoke inhalation, or parts of the structure collapsing, or any number of other things that can happen during a fire. Whoever set the fire was not just guilty of arson, but murder as well. 

Bogo looked back at Hopps. “Otterton and the fox, they are key witnesses?”

The rabbit nodded. “Mr. Manchas too, probably. Otterton told him about the Night Howler before he was darted.”

“Night Howler?” The buffalo asked. Then he shook his head. That wasn't important at this exact moment. There were to many Mammals running around. To many witnesses and Bogo suddenly realized that he didn't know who he could trust and who he couldn't. That was the problem with institutionalized conspiracies. You didn't know who knew what or whom was on who's side. “Never mind. Hopps, I am unofficially placing Otterton, Manchas, and your fox under your protective custody. You are to get them out of the city and find a safe place to lay low.”

He didn't mention for how long. He didn't know how long he might need. 

“Sir?” She stared up at him with those wide amethyst eyes of hers. 

She looked absolutely nothing like a responsible and competent officer of the law capable of protecting the lives of Mammals larger than herself. But then that an assessment she'd proven wrong numerous times already. If Bogo had to describe Judy Hopps in one word, it would be 'formidable'.

“There's a conspiracy in my city, Hopps, and I don't like it.” The buffalo growled. “If these Mammals can help take the conspirators down, then I want them protected. They're witnesses, Hopps, keep them safe so they can testify.”

There was a second beat of silence. Then the rabbit's eyebrows came down over her eyes. The bunny turning on her 'serious face'. “Yes, sir. You can count on me.”

He knew he could. She was deceptively industrious. 

She nodded to the other Mammals behind her whom began filling into the van. The fox paused at Hopps' side. 

“Not everyone will fit in our getaway car.” He informed the chief, very soberly. 

“You, Manchas, and Otterton, go.” He told the smaller Mammal. “I'll take care of the others. -Better care of the others.”

Nodding his understanding, the fox grabbed Hopps' paw and lead her over to the van. 

But Hopps pulled out of his grasp one more time. Turning back to Bogo, she said, “One more thing, keep your guard up. They already tried to take you out once already. On the night Gazelle was attacked, when you were out with Clawhouser. One of them tried to dose him with Night Howler -the Savage drug. They're using snipers. Be on the look out.”

His eyes went wide for a moment at the realization that the mayor might try and kill him. Then, he realized, if he was willing to arrest Lionheart, the previous mayor, then she would know that he could and would do the same to her. She would have to get him out of the way eventually. That is, assuming the mayor really was the one behind the conspiracy. It sounded like her voice on the recording. But that didn't mean it really was her. Bogo nodded. “And, Hopps, you;ll wanna get those collars off them as soon as you can. Its not public knowledge, but there are trackers in them.”

“I will.” The rabbit nodded and followed her fox into the van, slamming the doors shut behind them. 

The van sped away, peeling out of the hospital parking lot with a screech of tires. A few officers shouted at them, but they had bigger things to worry about with the evacuation. Moving all patients out of a hospital was no easy task. They needed all hooves and paws on deck. Bogo turned back to the task before him. 

Within the space of a few hours, it seemed the climate of his city had just become world more complicated. But he would handle it and do his job the same way he always did. One crisis at a time. 

…

Judy looked around the back of the van. Manchas, the largest Mammal of their group, was hunched behind the passenger seat. Otterton was in said passenger seat, directing Finnick as to the quickest way out of the city. Nick scooted closer to her, once again taking her paw in his and pulling her into him. 

“Sit down before you hurt yourself.” He said, almost perfectly timed before Finnick made a hard turn that would have pitched her tail over head had she still be standing. 

“Where's Primal?” She asked. She sent him to the van with Otterton. 

“Left to help with the evacuation around the same time the little fox rushed in to rescue you.” The otter supplied. “I guess he'll also help the police take care of the others...”

Everyone shared a sobering moment of silence as they were confronted with the fact that they had to leave so many Mammals behind. A cloud of guilt fell over the van. Something akin to survivors guilt. They were getting out, and the other predators were staying behind. 

They drove in silence for a time. Finnick, stopping at every check point and passing a neatly folded wad of cash to the guards. Nobody asked too many questions. Nobody checked the back. The journey out of the city was tense, but it was lubricated by the money Finnick took from Nick's apartment. 

Until, finally, they passed the final checkpoint and were on an empty stretch of highway heading to nowhere. 

“Pull over anywhere.” Judy said, realizing they were finally out of the city. “We need to get the collars off. The Chief said they had trackers.”

One lonely and abandoned stretch of road was just as good as any other lonely and abandoned stretch of road. Finnick pulled the van over to the shoulder the moment Nick's bunny said the word 'trackers'. Turning around in the driver's seat, he stared at the rabbit. “How do we get them off? They shock us if we tamper with them.”

That right there told Judy that Finnick had already tried taking his collar off at some point. 

She tapped her chin in thought. There had to be a way to get them off. Even if the intension was for the predator to wear their TAME collar indefinitely, there would still need to be some kind of release in the event of unforeseen circumstances. Judy turned to Nick, examining his collar. Paying special attention to the clasp that secured it around his neck. There was a seem where the two ends connected, but no snap, button, or catch. Just a small pin-hole on the underside of the clasp. A pin key release then. 

Turning back to Finnick, she asked, “I don't suppose you have a paperclip somewhere in here?”

“You know that trick doesn't actually work.” Both foxes informed her in a perfectly timed choir, no rehearsal. 

Nick smirked at the bunny cop. “Only Mammals who've never had to pick a lock before, think locks can be picked with paperclips.”

“Well, you would know, wouldn't you.” She returned his smirk with one of her own. “But pin-hole releases can be unlocked with a pin, or paperclip. Anything small and thin, really. If you have anything that small and thin.”

At that, everyone in the van began combing it. Searching for anything that fit that description. A paperclip, a safety pin, the needle to a syringe if Finnick was into that sort of thing -he was not. Anything that might work. 

Otterton saw the embroidered portrait of Robin Goddfellow poking out of Finnick's plastic bag of money and pulled it out. He wasn't expecting to find anything, really. But when he flipped the embroidery over, there, stuck between the interfacing and the needlepoint image was a sewer's straight pin. A long one, too. Like the kind used for quilting. 

“Will this work?” He held the pin up for all to see.

“That'll do.” Judy nodded, taking the straight pin from the otter and turning back to Nick. 

The red fox lifted his chin to give his bunny easier access to his collar, but that wasn't what he was paying attention to. His eyes focused on the needlepoint portrait in the otter's hand. “Hey! Isn't that mine!”

Finnick shot him a puckish grin. An expression almost identical to the one embroidered onto the trickster god's face. “The money was yours too. You paid our way out of the city. Thanks.”

“Urgh! Fin, I swear, you are so- Ah!” Nick was cut off mid threat as the collar gave one final shock of protest before falling away from his neck. It clattered to the floor of the van and he kicked it away with mingled relief and disgust. Massaging this throat, he asked, “Is ti supposed to do that when you take it off?”

“Probably not.” Judy admitted as she turned to Manchas to remove his collar next. 

As with Nick's his collar gave a parting shock before unlocking and falling away. 

Otterton was next. He braced himself for the shock, but still flinched when it happened. 

Finnick was last. A fact that chose to grumble about even more than the shock his collar gave him before it too fell away. 

All four predators now relieved of their TAME collars, Judy gathered up the discarded bands and clipped them all together. Interlocking the collars like links in a chain. She opened the van door, picked a direction -any direction was just as good as any other in the middle of nowhere- and lobbed the collars as hard as she could away from the road. They went arching threw the air, the chain of them tumbling end over end until she heard them land somewhere in the tall grass. 

Let Bellwether try and track them with the collars. All she'd find would be fleas and ticks. 

Pulling the van door shut again, Judy sat back down next to Nick. “Lets drive.”

“Where to?” Asked Finnick. “The Chief Fuzz put you in charge, Toot-toot. What safe house have you got lined up for us?”

The answer to that question was 'none'. Judy hadn't exactly planned on fleeing the city with four predators when she set out from Mr. Big's estate with the small fennec fox. Her mind had been consumed with saving Nick and she didn't -or couldn't have- thought beyond that. Now Nick was safe, as was Mr. Otterton and Mr. Manchas, and she was responsible for their continued safety until Bogo could build a case against Bellwether and expose her conspiracy. So then, where was she going to keep them safe?

“Head east.” She said. “South east. I'll give you more directions when we get closer.”

She was heading to the only other place in the world where she'd felt truly safe. The one place she wanted to run to the moment it was announced that she was dead. 

Maybe it was a predictable move for a prey like her. But when you're being pursued, you go to ground. You go to ground in your home, and a bunny's home was in a burrow. 

…

It was early morning in the Hopps family burrow. Morning for them usually began at five, before the day grew to hot to make working in the fields practical. 

Bonnie was just putting the first round of breakfasts out when there was a rough and insistent knock on the door. 

No one visited this early in the morning. Social calls were an afternoon affair. That meant that it was some version of an emergency. One of their neighbors from the next property over (a good four miles down the road) needing help, maybe. Either that, or a displaced predator that had drifted down from the city and was looking to strong-arm himself some hospitality. Either way, just as a precaution, Stu grabbed his gun before opening the door. 

What he saw standing on the step was the last thing he would have ever imagined. 

“Hi, dad. I'm not dead.” Judy stood on the porch. Looking exhausted, like she hadn't slept all night. Behind her stood four other Mammals, all avoiding eye-contact. “Uh, these are my friends. We need a place to stay.”

… 

END


End file.
